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angstyaches · 3 years

Note

hi hi hi so i was reading your fic where felix and elliot are feeding on an animal again and there’s some Hot Vampire Kissing Tm and i was wondering... since it was kinda teensy a little bit (very) hot .... could we have some more vampy- fangy bloody kissing with them please? i know it isn’t emeto or whump related but i figured i could always ask and you can obviously say no if you don’t wanna write it. Thanks!🍄

I honestly can’t tell if this is hot or not but I hope it’s at least nice.

CW: vampire resisting blood, hunger, burps, kissing and more implied spiciness.

Early-Days Felix and Elliott

Felix didn’t bother sitting down to meals lately. Meaning he didn’t sit down, and he didn’t have meals. Instead, he stood at the kitchen counter and consumed whatever quick snack he managed to rustle up, wanting to dull his sudden cravings before they could set in too deeply.

This is what he was doing at 6am, as the sun cut the white kitchen tiles into slices. He was having toast, because toast felt like a good morning food, and raspberry jam because the visual of something red and sticky entering his mouth was just appealing, it hit upon something in his brain that was begging to be hit upon, but as he chewed it, the illusion gave way, and the jam just tasted like jam.

“There you are.”

Felix looked across the countertop as he chewed, feeling a flicker of affection at the sight of Elliott wandering into the kitchen. His hair was loose and dishevelled, not in its usual ponytail or half-bun. He’d come downstairs in just his boxers and a pinstriped shirt that he hadn’t bothered to button up, clearly not expecting Nancy or Ryan to be up and about yet. And Felix just couldn’t help but gaze at how each inch of fabric sat on Elliott’s body, rustling against his skin with every movement he made.

“Are you alright?” Elliott asked, opening the fridge and carefully selecting a glass bottle from the shelf in the door. Felix swallowed and looked away, unable to bear the sight of the bottle or its contents.

“Yes, I’m okay.”

Elliott glanced over at him, eyeing the toast in his hand, before pouring himself a mugful of the bottle’s contents. It sloshed from glass container to ceramic, and Felix heard every.

Single.

Drop.

He swallowed again, though there was nothing in his mouth but saliva.

“You got hungry again?” Elliott asked, returning the bottle to the fridge door. His surprise was likely due to the fact that they’d both had a large dinner the night before, consisting of fish and chips and lemon cheesecake.

Felix turned his slice of toast over in his hand, feeling grateful for how it had sat nicely in his stomach so far, but also hating it for not being what he really needed. Hating it for its inability to stop the feeling of his teeth being wrenched from deep in his gums.

“Yeah,” he admitted. A half-lie. Dinner hadn’t truly sated him, so technically he was still hungry.

He could see that Elliott was biting the inside of his own lip, and he had a feeling he knew what was going to come next. Elliott’s fingers delicately laid the mug on the countertop, grip lingering on the rim as though poised to move it closer to Felix.

“Felix, I think you should consider –”

“No,” Felix whimpered, backing up.

Elliott’s eyes narrowed. “I wish you would consider drinking a little.”

Felix lifted his food to take a bite, mainly to obscure the shy grin that spread across his face at hearing the concern in Elliott’s voice. It had been two months since Felix had first entered the townhouse and become an official member of the Aldridge clan, and it had been six weeks and two days since he and Elliott had started sharing a bed and kissing and doing the things that often followed kissing. Six weeks in which Felix felt he should have gotten over these silly little moments of incoherent infatuation, and yet he felt as giddy and nervous around Elliott as ever.

Especially when the older man expressed worry over him.

“Please?” Elliott’s voice was low.

Felix placed the remainder of his toast on the plate and licked his lips. “I… I can’t. The idea of it is still rather… repulsive.” Heat shot out to the tips of his ears. “No, no offence…”

“No, I understand what you’re saying.” Elliott pursed his lips, eyes trained on the mug. “The psychological adjustments can be as challenging as the physical ones, if not more challenging.”

As much as Felix appreciated Elliott’s sympathy, it didn’t do much to ease his discomfort. Just because someone else had once felt similarly to how he was feeling now, it didn’t reassure him that he would one day move past it and live like a normal person. A normal vampire, he thought to himself, wondering if he was even allowed to call himself a person anymore.

“You know that it comes from a willing donor, right?” Elliott was referring to the mug’s contents, which Felix was trying hard not to gaze upon. “You’ll probably meet her soon, and hopefully that will ease some of your anxiety.”

Felix gave a heavy shrug. He hoped the same thing, but he also feared that putting a face to the blank, human-shaped blood dispenser in his mind would make the task of consuming all the more difficult. After all, he’d never had any desire to put a name and a face to the cow just before biting into a burger…

“I’m feeling a slight sting myself, and there’s no point in wasting good blood,” Elliott said, his voice becoming deeper and more distant as it did when he was about to feed. “Would it bother you if I drank this?”

Felix shook his head briskly, snatching up the last of his toast. There were three bites’ worth left, but he shoved it all into his mouth at once. The sound of Elliott’s lips sipping on the blood rang loudly through his skull, entering his ears like the incessant humming of a broken street lamp. His own chewing did little to drown it out.

The sipping turned into gulping, and Felix’s eyes widened at the way Elliott tilted his head back under the mug. His free hand gripped the edge of the countertop, as though he might fall over from the force of drinking. Felix’s ears continued to zone in on the sounds of drinking, consuming, guzzling, and he was sure he could hear the liquid being pulled into Elliott’s throat along with tiny pockets of air, the muscles inside his digestive system greedy and eager to get it down as quickly as possible.

Felix had never known it was possible to literally go slack-jawed while watching something, but right then, he couldn’t have closed his mouth if someone had offered to pay him.

“Mm,” Elliott mumbled, gasping softly as he put the mug down, empty, on the countertop again. Hs mouth was smeared in red, a single droplet drawing a line down his stubbled chin.

There was a low rumble in the older vampire’s chest, which Felix only heard because the thirst had heightened his senses, and then a long gurgle as his stomach struggled to settle such a large amount of blood; drinking from a container wasn’t the same as feeding from an animal, so Elliott should probably have drunk it more slowly.

Felix felt his own stomach rumble as though in response to Elliott's, but for the opposite reason; it was making far-too-quick work of the toast and lamenting the lack of what his body truly needed. He still couldn’t manage to close his mouth, despite the saliva gathering around his teeth and wetting his lips.

Elliott frowned and placed a hand on his belly – bare between the unclosed buttons of his shirt – and let out a short, tight belch. “Excuse me.”

“No.”

“No? You won’t excuse me?”

Felix shook his head. He couldn’t stop looking at the red stains on Elliott’s lips and the drip on his chin, which he hadn’t thought to lick or brush away yet. The sudden fullness must have been dulling his instincts; Felix could almost see the bliss in his yellow eyes as warmth flashed through them.

His fingers and lips trembled as he reached for Elliott’s face.

Elliott wore a blank expression as Felix’s thumb dragged up through his beard and over the dip in the corner of his mouth. The thumb came away red and glistening, and Elliott grinned, revealing fangs that were slightly distended from feeding.

“What?” Felix mumbled innocently, as his own thumb entered his mouth.

His lips and tongue began pulling at the liquid, relishing the metallic sweetness. His stomach tightened in anticipation while his head seemed to fill up with butterflies. As he slid his thumb from his mouth, he felt his own fangs reaching down, relieving a little of the pressure in his gums.

“I can’t put my finger on it, Felix,” Elliott whispered, leaning in a little closer, so that Felix could smell even more of the luscious liquid on his breath, “but somehow, you’ve never looked so gorgeous.”

In the end, Felix didn’t know who kissed who first, but what he did know was that Elliott tasted better than any ice cream or strawberry or tuna roll he’d ever eaten. A couple of times, he was worried that he’d sliced his own tongue on a fang – Elliott’s? His own? It was impossible to tell – but even that didn’t slow him down in his search for every last dreg that Elliott hadn’t managed to swallow.

Meanwhile, Elliott’s grip on Felix’s waist tightened, their hips eventually digging into one another’s, Elliott’s back being pressed up against the edge of the countertop. Eventually, their lips parted, thanks to Elliott pulling his head back.

Felix’s eyes fluttered open, lips still bobbing as though they didn’t understand that the kiss had ended. Elliott was pressing a hand to his mouth, frowning as he let out another belch.

“I’m so sorry,” he grumbled, as though annoyed by his own body. “I just drank and you’re pressing quite hard on my stomach...”

Felix tried to shimmy back a little, though he was swiftly drawn back in by Elliott’s arms. Elliott’s eyes scanned Felix’s face, another grin tugging at his mouth.

“What?” Felix asked breathlessly.

“You’ve got, uh… Sorry, that’s my fault.” Elliott lifted a thumb to the corner of Felix’s mouth, dragging it across his lip.

“Am I messy?” Felix’s voice was a little distorted from having his lip tugged at. He batted his eyelashes at the delicious look in Elliott’s eyes.

“You’re positively radiant.” Hands slid around Felix’s neck, cupping his head and drawing him in for one last chaste kiss. “Why don’t I get you a little something to drink, and then we can head back to bed for a bit?”

Felix caught a fingernail between his teeth as Elliott and his lips moved away from him, towards the fridge again. He could feel a full-on blush starting, surprised that his body found enough red blood cells to pull off such a feat.

“Okay, darling.”

#Felix #Elliott #Swallow the World #vampire kissing #OC hunger fic #hunger fic #vampire hunger #vampire thirst #stomach noises #hunger whump #disordered eating #I guess?#sickfic #angst fic #no emeto #burps #burping #burp fic

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sammysmaddy · 3 years

Text

You (Sam x Reader)*

Summary: Sam has been watching you for quite some time now and one night he gets his opportunity to have you.

Characters: Stalker!Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader (AU, Sam and Dean don't know each other)

Rating: 18+

Chapter Warnings: Angst, stalking, dub con at the very least, non con beginning, p in v, protected sex (kind of) :), crying, oral (fem. receiving), talk of rape, implied attempted date rape (not from Sam), hand job ish, blowjob ish, rough sex, breeding kink ish, hair pulling. I think that's it.

W/C: Well over 10,000 :) I got carried away in the story lol.

A/N: Inspired by 'You' because I love crazy psycho people and it makes me more than happy to pretend that Sam could be like that too. Let me know if you want this to be a series ;)

Masterlist

Sam's POV

You looked so pretty on your date tonight. Your date is an arrogant, cocky son of a bitch, and I know you see it. I don't know what you find attractive about him, he doesn't care about you or how you're feeling- he only cares what you look like. You're just arm candy for his selfish need to be seen by everyone and you seem to be paying no attention to that fact. He ignores you when you talk, he looks down your shirt at your cleavage every time you turn your head, and he only talks about himself. Yet, most likely knowing all of this, you find him fascinating. You stay quiet when he speaks, you laugh at his half-assed jokes, you let him talk about you like you're not even there. When his friend came to talk from a few tables over, you let him degrade you. You let him talk about how perfect your body is, how compliant you are, and you smiled as he did so. But, you still didn't seem to mind. You blushed and took his disgusting words as a compliment. Maybe you're hoping that he'll be able to satisfy you at the end of the night or maybe the only thing that's keeping you sane are his green eyes. He doesn't even truly recognize how beautiful you are.

But I do. You, Y/N, I knew it was you ever since the first time we met. It was that small coffee shop in the middle of the city, so far from your house that I had a hard time tracking you down. After watching you, I realized that you don't even like coffee. You only like it when it's pumped full of sugar and completely diluted into almost zero caffeine. I purposefully bumped into you to get your attention and you apologized to me. Too bad you were in a hurry that day, I would have loved to get to know you right off the bat. I could have drank my coffee and you could have drank your sugar concoction and we could have talked until the store closed. I would have found out what interests you, what your hobbies were, what your family was like, and maybe in a few months, you would have invited me to meet them.

You weren't like all of the other girls. You're shy and you're sweet and you're too scared to tell the waiter when your order comes out wrong, you are the definition of perfect. You don't like overstepping boundaries or oversharing details about yourself because you're too scared that people might find you annoying, but you are just the opposite. You're everything I've ever wanted. Your head holds beautiful locks of hair, your nose crinkles when you smile, your eyes shut when you laugh too hard, and the best part is that you don't even have to try. Even when you don't wear makeup or focus on your appearance, you are just as breathtaking. You are intoxicating, you are the essence of beauty, you are meant for me- and for the fucked up fact of the day, you don't even know who I am.

You don't even know that I've been protecting you for the past six months, watching over you at home to make sure you don't choke on your food or accidentally hurt yourself. You don't know that I follow you to the store and through the parking lot to make sure nobody takes advantage of you. You don't know that I watch you every time you choose a random douchebag from the bar to take home or how I see that you can make any man come undone in less than three minutes. You don't know how much I envy them or how much I wished that you made those faces for me.

But they always let you down, don't they? It's like you don't love yourself, it's like you want to be used by all of those men. You never choose the right one and every time you're close to release, they beat you to the punch. I know the face you make when you come undone around your fingers and they rarely ever get the pleasure of seeing it for themselves. Then they leave you a mess that you have to sort out for yourself. I would never do that to you, Y/N. I would never leave you unsatisfied, I would leave you begging for more- I know it. I would be as gentle or as rough as you'd like, I'd find every sweet spot that made your back arch, taste how sweet you are, I'd know just how long to fuck you before you wanted to stop, I would make sure that you came before I did, I'd fill you perfectly. But maybe you wouldn't want that. Maybe, you'd want to use me- and I'd let you. I'd let you use me however your big heart desired, I'd let you ride me until the sun came up, I'd let you leave marks all over my body and claim me to let everyone know that I'm yours, I would embrace whatever kinks or fantasies you'd be too scared to share with anybody else, Hell- I'd let you tie me up and blindfold me if it meant I could feel you cum around my cock.

And maybe it's not even the sex that would make you satisfied. Maybe it would be the way I treated you. I would value you more than anything, I already do, I would make sure you fed yourself properly, I would kiss you goodnight and make sure the thermostat was on the perfect temperature. I would go with you to the stores, help you cook dinner, schedule your doctor's appointments for you. I'd make sure your coffee had the perfect amount of sugar in it, I'd always let you choose where we ate if we chose to go out, I'd let you show me off to all of your friends- treat me how all of those other men treat you. When it comes to you, Y/N, it doesn't matter what I want. It's all about you. It's been all about you since the first time I saw you.

The only flaw I can seem to find is the men you choose, but you're too sweet to turn them down- maybe, it isn't your fault. Maybe you don't actually like them. Maybe you see one good quality in them and try your best to focus on it, maybe you hope that they can bend and shape into what you want them to be. If only you knew how willing I would be to change for you. And don't get me wrong, I have problems too, Y/N. I can't seem to talk to you. I can't even get you to notice me. At first, I tried almost every day. I'd get to your doorstep and my hand would raise itself to knock, but then I would get scared. I didn't think it through properly and even when I did- I still couldn't bring myself to do it. I couldn't just show up at your door like that, I had to make sure when we met again that it would be perfect. But the time never came and it never felt right. That and, the more time went on the more my anxieties rose, and that caused problems within itself. What if I wasn't your type? What if you didn't like my jokes or the way I laughed? What if you thought I was too tall or I didn't have enough muscles? But the truth is if I didn't get the courage to actually talk to you- I wouldn't ever get the answers to those questions.

So I watched. Waited for the perfect time that never seem to come. You were laughing at that asshole's jokes like he was some sort of comedian. He wasn't. He was just some low life from Lawrence, Kansas, he wasn't good enough for you. Dean Winchester, he happened to be the most mysterious one yet. It was hard for me to find information about him, but not impossible. His father was a drunk, meaning he still had some emotional trauma- he could easily hurt you. He drove a beat-up Chevrolet Impala that screamed I'm a dick, but you found it fascinating. You don't even know anything about cars, why did you lie to him? He's been on national headlines more than once, sometimes even for murder, but those cases mysteriously went away. You wouldn't know any of this. You don't do your research. You should know who you're really with. But, luckily, you have me. I'll do all the nitty-gritty dirty work just for you. I'll make sure he doesn't hurt you, I'll make sure you're safe.

The end of the night was imminent as you stood up from your table. Dean stood up with you, leaving his chair untucked while you tucked yours under the table. Classic dick move. He gave you a cocky smirk, placing his hand out for you to take- and you did. You followed him into the parking lot and got in his car. I love you, but sometimes I wish you knew better. I started my own car's engine, opting to leave the lights off, as I trailed a few cars behind you. He was a reckless driver, swerving like a drunk and causing chaos, but I bet you found it funny. I bet you found him wild and daring, maybe that's your type. I could easily be that.

I was beginning to lose you, I didn't want to get a ticket for speeding and having my headlights off, but the streets looked more and more familiar. He was taking you to your house. It hurt my heart how sporadically you allowed random men into your house, but I got my kicks with everlasting memories from those nights- the thought was almost enough to give me an erection. He didn't know the backroads to your house, but I did. I beat you, parking across the street and turning my car off- hopefully, you thought I lived there by now. Then I heard the low rumble of his shitty car pulling up to your house and then you kissed him in the front seat. Were you really going to take him right there? Nope. He opened his door, awkwardly shuffling to reach yours before you could do it yourself, and then he opened your car door- the only gentlemanly thing he's done all night. You thanked him, patting down your jeans as if they were dirty. You shyly swiped your hair behind your ear, you were nervous. Why were you nervous? This was a weekly thing for you. Did you realize how bad of a guy he was?

I quickly put my beanie on, hoping that I would be less noticeable- but I'm a giant, hopefully, you're too tipsy to notice me. I had to be on my guard if you were nervous, so I stepped out of my car. I walked around the back, making sure I had my knife in my pocket and tried to watch you as inconspicuously as possible. You led him up the front porch, turning around before you reached the door. You gave him a warm smile and he placed a hand on the wood just above your head. His head lowered, placing a kiss on your lips so harshly that you fell back into the door. I got worried about him hurting you, but then you placed a hand on his chest. You pushed against him, lightly, knowing you- you probably didn't want to let him down. You shook your head and his head lowered again, forcing himself onto you as you squirmed underneath him.

This is why I'm here for you. This is why I'll always protect you, even if you don't know I'm doing it. My fight or flight mode activated and I pretended to walk down the street. I tried my best not to look as he shook the locked doorknob with his hand, trying to force himself in. I knew he wasn't good for you, Y/N. You're lucky that I'm here to save you. I reached the bottom of your steps, still on the public sidewalk, and pretended to notice what was happening. I could hear you whimpering, suffocated by his kiss. He was disgusting.

"Hey, man. I think she said stop," I yelled at him, but he didn't stop. I frowned, looking at how he was attacking you with his mouth. Cautiously, I took three steps up- so close to you and him. "Back off," I said, reaching the top step and yanked his shoulder.

He turned around, chest puffed but he was small compared to me. Your eyes widened, your lips a beautiful color of rose, and I barely heard him talking to me as I looked at you. So close I could almost taste you. "Mind your fucking business," He said, pushing at my shoulders and snapping me out of my trance- God, you are so powerful.

"Are you okay?" I asked you, ignoring his small hands that were just pushing against my frame. Your eyes stayed widened as you nodded your head up and down, but I knew better. He was going to hurt you, you were not okay.

"She's fucking fine, man. Get the fuck out of here," He grit through white teeth- almost as white as mine.

I tilted my head towards him and he raised his eyebrows at me, then the anger took over. I couldn't stop myself even if I wanted to- and I didn't. My hand came up from lying lazily by my side and my fist collided with his cheek. I heard you gasp at the same time as the collision, it felt so good to hear you after all this time. He stumbled back, ready to full-on fight me, but you stepped in between us. You are so strong. He almost hit you, but he stopped himself just in time. He's lucky, if he would have laid his hands on you like that- he was going to be a dead man. Your hands smoothed down his chest, trying to calm him down. Why were you helping him? Your heart is just too big. Then, you turned around and faced me. You were breathtaking, even more so this close. I hadn't been this close to you since the coffee shop way back when. Your lips were perfectly plump and your eyes twinkled in the dim porch lighting. You were made for me.

"What's your name?" You asked me, nervously chewing on your bottom lip. Your eyes stayed wide and I fell in love with them on the spot.

"I- I'm Sam," I told you, stuttering just like I thought I would when I finally introduced myself to you, and you nodded your head cautiously.

"Well, Sam," You said and it was hard to pay attention to the rest of your sentence. My name sounded heavenly rolling off your tongue. "We are just, um, we're role-playing." You told me with question in your voice. I watched your throat as you swallowed anxiously. Huh, should have known you had those kinds of fantasies. "Right, Dean?" You asked, turning towards him and I watched as his eyebrows furrowed.

"What?" He asked in return, rubbing at the fresh fist mark on his face. "You know what? I've had a lovely night. Thank you, sweetheart, but I ought to get going." He gave you a fake smile, patting your shoulder in a friendly way, and shoving his way past me down the steps. I watched him as he got in his car and quickly drove away, then I turned to look at you. You were still nervous. He was gone, hopefully, you'd feel safe now.

"Thank you," You muttered quietly, giving me a soft smile. Your cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of crimson and I smiled back at you.

"I can stay around. You know, make sure he's gone for sure," I told you and you immediately shook your head 'no'. Oh, Y/N, I'm not the bad guy. Stop looking at me like you're so scared.

"I'm okay. Thank you anyways," You told me, reaching into your pocket and digging out your house key. Your eyes strayed away from mine, even before you turned around to unlock the front door.

"I, uh, I really don't mind. I just want to make sure you're safe," I pressed on as you unlocked the door. You didn't open it though, you turned around to look at me.

"Sam, really. I'm okay. You can go home now." You said with haste in your tone. I tilted my head and furrowed my eyebrows, what was so important that you couldn't talk to me for a few minutes? You turned around, opening your front door, and let yourself inside. You were getting away.

"Y/N, really, I can make sure he doesn't come back," I said, now haste was in my tone, as I stopped you from closing the door on me.

You pushed against my hand before you stopped, realizing that I was much stronger than you. It wasn't meant to scare you, but you looked like you had just seen a ghost. Your face grew pale as you looked at me, tears welling in your eyes as they stared into mine. Why were you so upset? Maybe you didn't find me attractive- I really hope that wasn't the case. I pushed the door open lightly and you stood there in all your glory, but you fiddled with your fingers nervously. I watched as the tears ran down your cheeks, wondering what the hell happened to you that made you so upset. But I was here to help. Like I said earlier, I'm always going to be here to help you. I slowly stepped into your house to show you that I'm not a threat and wrapped my arms around you. I felt you tremble in my grip and you didn't hug me back. Was I making you upset? I hadn't done anything to you, maybe it was Dean. Maybe you lied to me so that I didn't know what he was about to do to you. You can trust me, I hope you know that.

"Please, stop," You whimpered in a small voice and I pulled back immediately, your wish is my command Y/N. My hands smoothed down your arms, holding your hands as I looked down at you to see what was wrong. You jerked your hands out of mine and took a step back. I took a step forward. I had to make sure you were okay. "I need you to leave, please." You told me, sniffling your way through the sentence. I don't understand. I just saved you and you want me to leave? You took another step back and I took another one forward. "Please, Sam. You're scaring me." You told me, so vulnerable and honest, but you still used the word please.

"I'm sorry. I just- I needed to know you were going to be okay," I admitted to you, hoping that you would calm down- but you didn't. You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously, almost hard enough to draw blood. Did I do something wrong? Why were you being like this? "Why are you still scared?" I asked you, brushing the hair out of your face and you winced.

"I- I don't know," You told me, grabbing my hand lightly and pushing it down my side. You were so warm, I can't want to feel you everywhere. But I couldn't get past your last comment. You were lying. Why would you lie to me?

"Why are you lying?" I asked you and you shook your head in defiance.

"I- I'm not. I promise," You replied, your shaking breath told me otherwise.

"Y/N, you don't have to be scared of me," I said, realizing exactly where I fucked up. Your name. You never told me it and here I was acting like I knew you, I was getting ahead of myself. "I, uh, you're my neighbor. That's how I know your name." I tried to cover myself, chuckling nervously, but you shook your head again. Shit, I really fucked up.

"No, you're not," You told me, your voice almost cracking as fresh tears continued to spill down your face.

"Okay, but my grandparents-" I began to reexplain myself.

"No, they don't," You cut me off and I tilted my head at you, how would you know? "I- I know you've been following me." You bit your lip and my heart dropped into my stomach. Fuck, maybe you do pay attention to your surroundings.

"I can explain-" I told you, but you made a run for it. Your feet took you surprisingly fast up the stairs and I felt my heart beat out of my chest. I didn't know what else to do, you were going to call the cops on me- get me arrested, I couldn't let that happen. I ran after you, but you reached your bedroom door and slammed it in my face. I shook the door handle, knowing it was most likely already locked, and began to curse at myself. "Please, Y/N! Just let me in, I promise I can explain everything to you!" I yelled, desperately shaking the door as I heard you sobbing on the other side.

"Sam, just go. I- I won't call the cops if you leave. I promise, Sam. I promise." You told me in between choked sobs and my heart broke for you.

This was not how I imagined meeting you again would go. As much as you sounded like you believed the words coming out of your mouth, I couldn't take that chance. I didn't have any other plan but to speak to you and I was not going to go to jail for wanting to have a conversation. I dug in my pocket for my lock-pick, which I always kept in case someone was hurting you or you were in trouble. Little did I know I would be using it to let myself in your room. I wasn't really sure how to use it, so I fiddled it around a bit- knowing you could hear my desperation. Then the lock clicked and I silently applauded myself, opening the door to see you sitting on your window ledge. You looked back at me as I ran towards you and you jumped. You're lucky my long legs reached you before you fell and hurt yourself. I pulled you up, collapsing backward as I held you in my arms. You were silently crying, not bothering to break away from my grip and it felt good to feel your heart beating against my chest. It wasn't exactly ideal, but it didn't bother me as much as I thought it would. You were perfect no matter how much you feared me.

"It's okay, Y/N. I just want to talk," I said in a quiet voice, stroking your wet hair strands out of your face. You shivered in my grip, turning your head away from my hand and I frowned. Why are you so difficult? Why can't you just let me love you?

"Are you going to hurt me?" You asked in a soft tone, still looking forward like you didn't want to look at me.

"No, of course not. Why would I hurt you?" I asked in return and you didn't reply for a good ten seconds.

"I'm sorry," You told me and I almost let myself fall for it. You attacked too quickly, shoving your elbow into my ribs as you scrambled to get up. You began to run towards the door, but I grabbed your ankle and you fell on the floor. It didn't have to be this way, Y/N, you just had to make it painful. "Please, Sam," You choked out as I sat on my knees, pulling you closer to me by your ankle. You turned yourself around, propping yourself on your elbows, and looked at me with glossy eyes. I used your thighs to pull you closer to my lap, letting them linger there when I got you where I wanted you. "Sam, let's just- let's talk, okay?" You asked me frantically and I didn't understand why your tone changed so drastically until I looked down.

"Oh, sorry," I told you as I realized how uncomfortable it might be for you to be so intimately close with me. You pulled your thighs off of mine and sat across from me, holding onto your knees for dear life. "Just promise you won't run from me, okay?" I asked you and you nodded your head slowly. Finally, now we can actually talk. "I- I have had a, um, a liking for you for-"

"Six months," You muttered, burying your head in your knees. Were you really that smart or was I really that dumb? Why didn't you do anything?

"You knew?" I asked in confusion and you nodded your head. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I did. They didn't believe me," You sniffled and I frowned. It made me upset that you went to the police before you decided to have a conversation with me. I hadn't even done anything to you and you tried to get me put in jail?

"You what?" I seethed through my teeth, feeling my blood boil. I didn't mean to get angry with you, but everything was falling apart too quick and it was the only way I could tell you I was upset. Your body shivered with my sharp words, but you didn't say anything. "Y/N, tell me exactly what you told the police," I told you, starting to panic. What if you told Dean and Dean was on his way to the station now? I needed to know. I reached across, meaning to be light-handed but it didn't exactly work out that way as I shook your arms so that you would look at me. "Tell me."

"I just- I was scared," You told me, finally looking up and showing me the fear I unintentionally instilled in you. "I didn't tell them anything, I just told them I was scared." You trembled, sounding like you were telling the truth for a change. Maybe you were just saying that so I would leave you alone. Not going to happen. You betrayed me. But still, I never meant to hurt you, that was my fault. We all have our faults, Y/N, and mine is growing in my boxers because of how close we are. You drive me crazy.

"It's okay, Y/N. It's going to be okay," I told you, pushing your hair behind your back and you stayed still. My thumbs wiped the tears off of your cheeks, only for your eyes to produce more. You're so sad, but you're still just as beautiful as ever. I couldn't help myself, holding your face in my hands brought an excitement in me that I couldn't contain as I smashed my lips onto yours. To my surprise, you didn't move. You didn't pull back or fight me, you just sat there and let me kiss you. Your lips were so soft, I just wished they kissed me back. "Just let me make you feel better."

"Please, Sam I-" You began to say, but I put my index finger over your lips. You were going to say everything I didn't hear and I want for the both of us to enjoy this as much as possible.

"It's okay, Y/N. You don't have to do anything, just let me love you." I told you, not waiting for your reply as I pressed my lips onto yours. Your mouth parted slowly, I suspect to protest, but it gave me the perfect access to shove my tongue inside of you. You tasted like sweet wine and chapstick as I explored every inch of your mouth, you were so much warmer than I expected. You didn't move your lips but that's okay, I'll do all the work for you. My hands travel from your cheeks and down to your neck, pulling you in closer to me. You were already close, but I couldn't help but feel like I needed you closer.

You whimpered into my mouth but I pretended that it was a moan as I trailed my lips down your cheek. They reached your neck, sucking in hard enough to leave a mark but not hard enough to hurt you, and I couldn't help but imagine- if your neck tasted this good, then how would your pussy taste? My erection was growing stronger, itching to get out of its confines as I continued to kiss your neck. I heard you choke yet again another sob, but I knew you wanted me- or else you wouldn't let me do this to you. You let me pull you closer, straddling your hips around my waist as I became drunk on the kisses that I was giving you. Your legs tightened around my waist and your arms lazily landed around my shoulders- surely you wouldn't do that if you didn't want me.

It gave me even more confidence, my hands reached up to cup your perfect breasts through your simple blue shirt. You always looked good in blue. Your breasts were the perfect handful for me, soft and warm skin that I couldn't wait to suck on. I couldn't help but groan into your neck as I imagined all of the things that I wanted to do to you. But, as I was kissing you, you pushed on my chest. You were light-handed, almost like you didn't want to hurt me, and you looked into my eyes.

"I thought you just wanted to talk," You said, lowering your head to look down at the predicament you got yourself in. My hands supported your lower back, making sure that you didn't fall backward and hurt yourself. It felt so good to have you this close to me, and maybe you knew I had been watching you, but you probably didn't know how much I dreamt this day would come. "Sam, are you listening?" You asked me and I realized that I wasn't. I was too busy looking at your body on top of mine, relishing the weight I felt as you sat on top of me, but maybe you know just what I like. Maybe you know I love it when you say my name, you seem to say it a lot.

"What's wrong?" I asked you as I continued to watch the tears stream down your face, but you shook your head as if nothing was wrong.

"I'm not sober. Don't you want me when I'm sober?" You asked me and I almost took a few seconds to think about it- but then I realized that you just didn't want to be with me. I worked too damn hard for too damn long for you to slip away from me, we're so close, you should just enjoy the time we have together.

"You only had two glasses of wine, Y/N," I told you, and you bit your bottom lip, knowing that I was right- you were definitely sober. I almost got angry again, it upsets me deeply when you lie to me, but then I looked at your lip. I always loved it when you would bite your lip, you're lucky you're so beautiful, or else I would be very unhappy that you weren't telling the truth. "What's wrong?" I asked again, why was I not good enough for you?

"Sam, I'm sure you're a great guy..." Here comes the 'but', "...but maybe I'm not the right girl for you. You deserve someone who loves you just the same, and I'm sorry, I just don't." You told me, trying your best to let me down easy. I'll admit, it hurt to hear those words come out of your mouth, it hurt to hear things that I didn't want to hear. Here comes my 'but'... but I still love you no matter what. I just wish I never gave you the opportunity to speak up in the first place. I won't make that mistake again.

"I don't want to hurt you, Y/N, but you know I can't just leave. You know how long I've been waiting to have you all to myself," I told you honestly, hoping that you would understand where I was coming from. You nodded your head, fresh tears spilling down your rosy cheeks, and I gave you a soft smile. I knew you didn't want this, Hell, I didn't want this- I never wanted it to be so one-sided, but I tried my best to get past that. You being so compliant just shows me how much you were made for me. You couldn't even let me down even after knowing that I've been watching you for quite some time. You're so sweet that it makes the butterflies in my stomach go crazy. "I want you to enjoy this too." I told you and you stayed silent, which is fine- I am going to lose it if you tell me that you don't want me again. "Can you walk over to your bed with me?" I asked and it took you a few seconds before you nodded your head.

I helped you stand up, holding tightly onto your hand to make sure you didn't escape- but not tight enough to the point where you might think it was to hurt you. You faced me at the edge of your beautifully made bed, another thing I loved about you was how nice you kept your room, and you looked up to me for instruction. Your eyes are wide and glossy, but they're not spilling tears anymore. I hope it's because you want this and not because your tear well is empty, but it doesn't really matter to me anymore because I am finally going to have you. I dipped down to kiss your cheek and you didn't even flinch, maybe I'm growing on you. My hands landed tightly on your waist, picking you up and setting you on the bed. Now you're eye level with me and I take this perfect opportunity to kiss you again. My fingers travel up your body and lock themselves into your hair, pulling your face closer to mine and I wrap my lips onto yours. Just as soft, a little less salty as earlier, and becoming plumper as I suck on them.

You surprise me when your hands land on my waist and it sends a jolt of electricity through my body before I realize you're trying to push me away. It's okay, Y/N, I'll push through to you. I grab your wrists, I'll admit a little too harshly for my liking, and push them to your sides while I continue to devour your lips. I push my hips closer to yours, pressing against your clothed core, and you whimper into my mouth. You sound just as divine as I thought you would. I pull at the bottom of your shirt and naturally you fight me, but sooner or later you will realize that I will get what I want. Lifting your shirt above your head, I try my best not to look up at your face because I don't want to see the hurt in your eyes. I'm not hurting you. I'm making you feel better. I am making up for all of those shitty guys who could never satisfy you the way that you deserve to be satisfied.

Your shirt hits the floor and my mouth waters at the sight of your slightly clothed chest. I reach around your back to unclasp the simple black bra that you always wear on the nights that you take men home, I wonder why you fought Dean tonight- but I push that to the back of my mind as the fabric falls down your arms and reveals your perfect breasts. You're sobbing again, I can hear it, but all my mind can focus on is the fact that- right here, right now, you are all mine and nobody can take that away from me, not even you. I tried to be nice, I tried the talking thing, you cried and cried, but then I realized that you'd never give yourself to me like that. I'm not your usual guy, I don't go to bars or try to charm you by getting you drunk, I don't try to charm you by talking about myself- I've barely even talked to you at all, maybe I'm not your type. That's okay, it's just one night, Y/N. You owe me that much.

My hands find your breasts, cupping them until I feel your nipples harden against my palms. They're almost rock solid when I go to pinch them and the surrounding skin is prickled with goosebumps, I can feel myself growing harder in my jeans.

"Wait, Sam," You told me just before I lowered my face into your chest. I pulled back to look at you and you bit your lip again- it's like you know exactly how to get me going. "You've been watching me for a long time now, right?" You asked me, nervousness in your shaking breath. I nodded my head, hoping that you were becoming more willing to share yourself with me- it is definitely the best way to have you, but not my only choice if I had to. "So, you know I use condoms, then. I, uh, I don't like birth control because it-"

"Because it makes you cry too much," I cut you off before you can fully explain it. You frown at me and I tilt my head in return, I was just saving you time because I knew it would have taken you a while to explain.

"Sam, you're a freak, I hope you know that," You mutter under your breath and it's almost enough to make me knock you out, but I'll give you another try. I'm not a freak... I just love you a little more than I should. "Condoms are in-"

"Bottom drawer, left side," I finish your sentence, see how well I know you? Don't you see how much I care for you? You nod your head and you get goosebumps all over your body again, your nipples like delicate flowers blooming in the springtime.

All right, we're definitely getting somewhere. By you telling me this- caring about how I take you, shows me that maybe just maybe you want me too. I leave you there, trusting you not to run anymore, and I make my way to your nightstand. The bottom drawer encases well over a hundred rubbers, all different sizes, even different flavors which is interesting because you don't let them in your mouth. I pick a random one up, hoping that maybe it will fit, but then again I don't really care. You're lying back on the bed, arms covering your chest, and looking back at me. You are so effortlessly beautiful, so pretty when you're not trying to fight me off. I walk back to the edge of the bed and you don't pick your head up to look at me, but it's okay. I'll take what I can get- at least you're not crying anymore.

I climb on, the weight of my body into the soft mattress making you fall a little bit closer to me. It's like you knew I was going to move your arms as you lay them at your side, fully exposing your bare chest to me. I give you a small smile and you roll your eyes at me in return, you're lucky I find it cute when you do that. As much as I want to stare at you like this for eternity, the twitching member in my pants tells me that I should get you even more undressed. You lay there, almost lifeless, as I thumb your jeans open. I undo the zipper, taking my time with it as I hook my fingers into the waistband. You don't help me or lift your hips when I start to pull down, which is fine, you're perfect just the way you are. Then, your jeans hit the floor and your panties are the only thing in the way from me seeing all of you. You look beautiful like this and I waste no time taking my own shirt off.

When I turn around to throw my shirt on the ground I feel your hands on my stomach. They're small and warm as they smooth along the dips of my muscles and I turn back to look at you. My eyebrows furrow in confusion and when you smile at me all of my concerns melt away. You move around, which makes my heart beat out of my chest, and you end up on your knees in front of me. For a change of pace, I don't know what to do when your hands pull my head closer to you and you place your lips on mine. When I kiss you back and rest my hands on the sides of your neck, your fingers leave my hair and land comfortably on my sides. It feels so good to have you kiss me back, you're nipping at my bottom lip with your teeth and swirling your tongue inside of me. Months I waited for this to happen and it's even more surreal than I thought it would be. You know what you're doing and it's evident by the way you lead my lips back and forth with your own. I knew you were perfect when I chose you. Then you pull back and my lips chase yours.

"Am I the freak now?" You ask me, your eyes soft. I shake my head 'no' and I feel your delicate fingers trail down my v-line to the top of my jeans. I look down as they unsecured the button, blinking a few times to make sure I wasn't having a hallucination, and I hear you giggle softly. "Why didn't you just ask for my number, Sam? I mean, I'm flattered, really- I just wish it didn't happen like this." You told me and I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out, and you continued to talk for me. "You're handsome, you're tall, you seem like you have a lot of problems. If you really knew me then you would realize that you're my exact type. Why didn't you just talk to me?" You asked, looking into my eyes as you roughly pushed my jeans down. I was stunned, was this real life? You were just crying, refusing to kiss me back, and now you're trying to tell me that I should have asked for your number? "I'm assuming you're the reason that the creepy cashier ended up on the five o'clock news? He was beaten up pretty badly, Sam. You didn't have to do that for me." You told me and I still couldn't find the right words, that was months ago. He was going to hurt you, I heard him talk about it with his friends, I saved you. But you knew it was me? I should be the one asking why you didn't come up to me when you figured that one out, why you didn't thank me as soon as it happened. "Would that have happened to me too?"

"No, of course not. I'd never hurt you, Y/N," I told you, cupping your cheek and you rolled your eyes again, swatting my hand away.

"You didn't think that raping me would be painful? Or leave me scarred for life?" You scoffed and I shook my head in protest.

"No, I didn't want to hurt you like that, but you kept fighting, and- No, I'm not like that," I sighed, trying my best to come up with a reasonable explanation for you.

"But, you are like that, Sam," You counteracted me and I frowned. I was hoping you'd never see me that way, all I wanted was to show you how much I loved you.

"But, I didn't have to be that way. I mean, look at where we are-" I began to reexplain myself again, but you shook your head immediately.

"Don't you dare act like I asked for this. Don't do it. I'm making this better for me, not for you." You cut me off and I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. Is that really the way you see me? Is that the only reason you kissed me back and pushed my jeans down my thighs? "Don't look so sad. Take what you want and go." You told me, bitterness in your voice as you shoved your hand in my boxers. I couldn't help but let out a throaty groan when your soft hand wrapped around me, pumping me even though I was already fully hard for you. You never did this with anyone else, though. You always let them prepare themselves, I couldn't help but feel like I was special. I kissed you hard as you continued to twist me in all directions, masking my moans in your mouth as I could already feel myself getting close- but I wasn't going to cum, not yet. This was all about you.

I pushed you back lightly, following you with my mouth as your back hit the soft mattress. Your hand worked wonders as my lips trailed down your neck, sucking in your wonderful scent and even tasting the bitterness of your perfume. My hand reached your wrist, pulling you out of my boxers, and I rested it by your side. I kicked my jeans down my legs and onto the floor as I climbed off the bed. Pulling you by your thighs, I heard you gasp as I dragged you down to the edge of the bed. My hands worked hastily, guiding your black panties down your legs in one swift move and purposefully throwing them on top of my jeans- so I could keep them for memory's sake.

Then I looked back down at your naked body, your slick glistening in the dim lighting as I licked my lips. You were perfectly wet for me and I couldn't wait any longer to dive into your heat. My knees hit the carpet as I wrapped my hands around your thighs, holding you down and placing my tongue on you. Your back arched, your hands found their place in my hair, and small moans left your mouth as I drank all of the sweetness from your body. You tasted so much better than I could ever have imagined and your whimpers sounded heavenly, especially after knowing that I was causing them. Your clit was easy to find and I wrapped my lips around it, causing you to lift your thighs but I held them down for easier access. The sounds coming from your mouth combined with the noises coming from latching onto you was a deadly combination and motivated me even further to continue to try and burst the coil that I knew was growing in your stomach.

In all of my time watching those men take you, very few had the pleasure of tasting you- and when they did, they would go on for a minute or so before becoming selfish and getting ahead of themselves. Sex isn't a one-sided thing and I understand that, I want you to feel just as good as I will later on. I won't leave until I rip an orgasm from your body and I know you're getting close. I'm alternating from sucking and kitten licks on your sensitive sweet spot and you have yet to cease from moaning underneath me. Your moans are almost enough to make me come undone inside of my boxers, you sound so perfect. But maybe they just aren't as good as I am. Maybe I only need a minute to have you cumming in my mouth because your hands in my hair are gripping tighter, your thighs are getting harder to hold down, and you're screaming yes. You taste sweeter and more natural than honey and my mouth is making obscene noises as I try my best to coerce your first orgasm. I let go of your thighs, opting to hold onto your hips, and they wrap around my head. Your legs push me deeper into your core and it's getting harder to breathe but I don't care. My nose is just above your heat, my chin is deliciously soaked in you, and your legs are starting to shake against my ears.

Soon enough, you're screaming profanities and coming undone under my influence, but I won't stop until I work you through it. Your breathing is unsteady as you spill fresh juices onto my tongue and your hands attempt to push me away. Lapping up all of your climax and letting my taste buds soak in how good you taste, you begin to whine uncomfortably. I figure it's time to stop, so I flatten my tongue and start at your core- leading up until I feel you shudder underneath me when I hit your bundle of nerves. Your legs relax as I pull my face up, wiping my chin off on my forearm, and I smile- knowing that I'm going to smell like you by the time I leave.

"See, this isn't all about me, Y/N," I smirk, a little cockier than usual, and you give me a small and out-of-breath smile. "When was the last time you came because of a guy?" I asked you and you shrugged your shoulders.

"I- um, maybe a few months ago," You said breathlessly, your smile never fading from your lips.

"Four months ago. An asshole named Rich, but it was only because you were watching a sex scene on your TV, wasn't it?" I asked you, hovering over you and placing a kiss on your lips. You didn't care that you had just came in my mouth nor that I answered your question better than you did, you kissed me back hungrily and wrapped your hands around my neck. You even trailed my lips as I lifted up, whining when they disconnected, and I knew there was no way you didn't want me. You could put on a front and say that you didn't ask for it, and I might have believed you, but, ultimately, I would have known you were lying.

Your hands pushed against my chest and I stumbled a few feet back. I looked at you in confusion and you gave me an innocent smile as you climbed off of the bed. "You know I don't do this, right?" You asked, lowering onto your knees at my feet. I couldn't help but feel nervous when your hand wrapped around me, I've never seen you do this with anyone before. "Hm?" You asked again and I felt my breath hitch in my throat as you stroked my cock in your hands.

"I- I know," I told you, gulping eagerly, and watching as you wrapped your lips around me. A guttural moan escaped my throat at the sensation of your warm tongue circling around my tip, sucking lightly, and collecting all of the precum I produced just for you. I don't know what changed or made you decide to do this, but I didn't mind. I didn't even think about the possibility of feeling your lips wrapped around me- I never saw you do it with anyone else and I didn't get my hopes up. So, now, I'm here and you're sucking me down and I feel completely ill-prepared. It almost made me feel pathetic when I felt my climax bubbling too quickly and you had only been working me for thirty seconds, but with another fifteen I would be spilling into your mouth- I couldn't let that happen.

My hands entangled in your hair and pulled you off, your lips making a loud pop as they disconnect from my length. You gave me a shit-eating grin when I helped you stand up, knowing exactly how good you were. Maybe you never sucked their dicks because you didn't want them to cum before they got the chance to please you.

"You know what you didn't learn about me, Sammy?" You asked in a tone so close to a whisper as you grabbed me in your hand again. You gave me a nickname, don't think I take that lightly. My eyes looked down and back up into yours- which seemed so innocent and young it was hard to believe that your body count was so high. "I don't cum because they're not rough enough." You told me, hinting at your devious fantasies, making my urge to fuck your brains out ten times stronger. "Are you going to be able to help me with that or are you too eager already?" You asked with a cocky smirk, twisting your hand around me faster. The best part was knowing that you were taunting me on purpose- you wanted all of the power, you didn't want me to get the chance because you know the effects that you have on me. You wanted for me to cum in your hand, show you that I'm just like the rest of them. I know you, Y/N, and I'm not going to let you down no matter how low you think of me.

My head dipped down, ghosting your lips and taunting you like you were taunting me before I grabbed your arms and spun you around. You squealed when I pressed a firm hand on your back, keeping you down as I got prepared to make you wish you didn't ask for it rough. Then, I gave you no warning as I guided myself to your entrance, slamming myself fully into you.

"You forgot the condom," You whined as my legs hit the back of your thighs. If I ever wanted a chance to do this again, I knew I had to listen to you, so I pulled out. Reaching over you, I grabbed the foil on your bed and quickly ripped into the package. My big ass fingers had a hard time unrolling the lubricated rubber and putting it around my painfully hard cock. Just before I put it all the way on, I made sure to clip the end with my fingernails- leaving a small hole that you wouldn't be able to see me make anyways. "Thank you." You told me and I smiled, knowing you wouldn't be able to tell a difference anyway. If this one time happened to get you pregnant, it would be a blessing- there'd be no way for you to escape me.

Then, I decided to try again. I held myself in my hand, not particularly fond of the residue the condom left and nudged the tip of my cock at your entrance. I grabbed onto your hips and pulled you back on to me, only to slam into you which pushed you forward. You were so much tighter than I expected, so much warmer around me, and you sounded so good when you gasped. I took no time waiting to pull out and slam back into you again, the noise of the bed creaking mixing perfectly with your loud whimpers. Your cunt squeezed around my cock as I quickly found the perfect pace to fuck you at. I would be fully inside of you for less than a second before I would pull out and do it all again. One hand stayed on your hip while the other grabbed the back of your head, pulling your chest off of the bed and making your back arch. This position felt so much better and I knew that the new angle was sure to make the tip of my cock hit your g-spot with every thrust by the way you were moaning. You were whispering fuck under your breath every time my hips hit your ass, gripping the soft comforter under you for support.

I fucked into you fast and hard, just like you said you liked, and I silently thanked myself for jogging every day. My stamina was unmatched and I was able to keep the pace that had you screaming for more. I was surprised with myself for not cumming the second I entered you, but I needed for you to cum again before I did. The hand that rested on your hip moved to your clit, making your legs shake underneath me. You were close, you were screaming that you were close, and it all sounded like music to my ears. Your cunt dangerously clenched around me every time I pulled out like you were trying to milk me, but I knew it wasn't on purpose. I knew you were clenching around me because your climax was coming much faster than you could have imagined, it was just your body naturally responding to mine and I knew, now more than ever, that God made you for me.

Your palms grasped onto the blanket, making your knuckles turn white, as your body jolted forward with every thrust. "Fuck, Sam!" You screamed and I bent over to kiss at your neck, humming into you as I tried not to cum at the sound of my name leaving your lips. Your hand came down, pushing my fingers harder onto your clit and you moaned loudly as you came undone for the second time. Your legs were shaking erratically as you pulled my hand away from your core, squeezing my fingers tightly as you practically cried around me. You were holding my hand and it was sweaty, but it felt so good to hold you like this. I kept the pace up, fucking you hard throughout the entirety of your orgasm, using your sweet cries as inspiration for my own that was coming sooner than later. Pulling my lips away from your neck, I let go of your hair and grasped onto your hips again. I was grunting, moaning, and groaning as I fucked you faster than before. It wasn't hard to chase my release as your body collapsed onto the bed and I stilled in your cunt, fully inside of you as I felt my climax leave my body. Panting for breath, I stayed inside of you until my orgasm washed over me and I could barely see straight or hear your whimpers.

When I pulled out, I quickly took the condom off and got rid of the evidence, hoping to god that you wouldn't notice that my cum was slowly leaking out of your cunt- hopefully, you'd think it was your own. You rolled onto your back, panting, giving me a tired smile, and cupped your breasts because I assumed it was just comfortable. I hovered over you, placing one last kiss on your lips before I turned around and began to dress myself. Pulling my boxers up, I watched as you propped yourself on your elbows and you frowned at me.

"You're leaving?" You asked me and it made me stop in my tracks, isn't that what you wanted? You never let anyone else stay, even the guy that ended up making you cum, so why were you asking? "You decided you're going to stalk me for six months, give me the best sex of my life, and then leave?" You asked again, light laughter leaving your lips.

"You- you want me to stay?" I asked, uneasiness in my voice, as I prayed that you would say yes.

"If you promise not to murder me in my sleep, I'll even cook you breakfast," You said with a small smile plastered on your face.

#sam winchester #supernatural #fanfic #oneshot #jared padalecki

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blinder-secrets · 4 years

Text

#18 & #19 - John

‘Don’t look her in the eyes. She might steal your soul.’ & ‘Neither one of us is drunk enough to have this conversation.’

prompt list

The room is loud when you enter, filled with laughter and heavy-handed chatter. It isn’t usually a quiet den when occupied by the full Shelby register, but they do seem lighter than normal, chipper like they’ve won something. Why is none of your business, though it does bode well for you in terms of tips.

‘Ere she is,’ Arthur booms at your arrival. ‘Our lovely y/n.’

You didn’t have to say anything; simply appearing as you are, with a freshly filled bucket of ale, is enough to get a warm welcome from them.

‘As ordered, Arthur,’ you reply, thankful to set the thing down. ‘Who’s first?’

He holds his glass up without comment. As you take it from him John catches your eye, like he always does, but you look away quickly - you’re working after all. You can’t let yourself get distracted, especially by the likes of John Shelby. The spilt beer wouldn’t be worth it.

You put Arthur’s drink back in place and pick up Johnny Dogs’ in turn, happy to be filling their next round for them. It isn’t the easiest job, but it has its perk, and waiting on the Shelbys’ private room is one of them. Generally, it's a gentler pace in here. They don’t bark orders at you when you’re busy, or question your knowledge of spirits. If they’re talking serious matters, they sit quiet and let you do your duties around them, and when it’s a social gathering like today, they talk to you like a friend.

‘I was wondering, right,’ Arthur starts, looking at you with already glazed eyes, ‘how something as pretty as yourself, stays sane in a place like this?’

Your eyebrows lift. ‘The Garrison, or Birmingham?’

John snorts. He’s sitting back in the bench, his hands linked atop his lap. He’s doing practically nothing, yet you catch yourself looking, and then looking again.

‘Here,’ Arthur grunts. ‘The Garrison.’

‘She’s hardly gonna say anything, is she, Arthur?’ John answers for you. ‘You own the bloody place.’

‘Yeah? Well consider it a survey, ay, for my dearest employees.’

Tommy sighs from the seat on your left, showing interest for the first time since you’d entered. ‘She likes it well enough, Arthur, or she wouldn’t be here.’

‘I do,’ you agree with smile. ‘I like my job.’

He lifts his hand, gesturing to them that see, you do just fine here.

‘The men don’t bother ya?’ Arthur continues, insistent in his curiosity.

It’d be a lie to say yes; sure, there are exceptions, but most of the men are smart enough to watch their words here. Half of them are too scared of the Shelbys to do anything other than order a drink and leave, and the rest make the assumption that any woman present is already spoken for.

‘Men are always a bother,’ you answer, opting for the lightest route, ‘it’s nothing I can’t handle.’

‘Yeah,’ John chips in, boisterous in their company, ‘don’t look her in the eyes, they say. She might steal your fuckin’ soul.’ He grins, pleased with the chorus of half-laughs around him, and then settles his gaze upon you again.

You would laugh with them, but you find yourself frowning slightly. He’s always been keen on you, but never so forward, and never so strangely assumptive. You can’t place your finger on it, but there’s something different about him today.

‘Alright, John,’ Tommy says, leaning to tap his cigarette into the nearest ash tray. ‘She’s still on the job. I’ll have another, love.’

You smile and take the glass he’s recently emptied. ‘And stealing poor men’s souls isn’t in my contract, is it Mr. Shelby?’

He shrugs. ‘What you do in your own time has nothing to do with me.’

Before you can reply, John’s speaking again, and watching you closely. ‘Speaking of,’ he says, ‘ what’re you doing later?’

----------------------------------

After recovering from the initial embarrassment, and the flushing of your cheeks, you’d told him nothing: you were doing nothing, so, yes, you’d meet him for a drink. God know’s what you were thinking when you did.

It’s been two hours since then, and an hour since your shift finished, though it doesn’t feel like it. You’re keeping his company in the now empty private room and, to your surprise, you're enjoying yourself.

‘You want another?’ John asks from opposite.

You shake your head. ‘I don’t really like beer.’ You only drank the last one out of politeness.

‘Ay?’ He frowns deeply. ‘Why din’t you say?’

‘You didn’t ask.’ He’d put the glass in front of you the minute you’d sat down, and then again with the second. ‘I’ll have a gin though, if you’re offering.’

He grins, leaving with a slight spring in his gait. Whether it’s from the amount he’s drank, or the fact you are willingly prolonging your time with him, you don’t know. But when he returns, fresh drinks in hand, he’s still smiling.

‘I told them I’d get you out with me, you know, an they din’t believe me.’

‘Really?’ You can only assume they refers to his brothers. ‘Why?

He shrugs, landing clumsily in the bench-seat. ‘Thought you were above us.’

You laugh once, not believing that either of the older Shelbys would think that. Or even that they’d think that you would think that. In fact, it’s hard to believe that the Shelbys thought anything of you at all. They had no reason to.

‘Thats... so far from true, John,’ you say, stumped for a better response.

‘That’s what I said.’ He tuts, looking down to pick a cigarette from the box in his palm. ‘Always fuckin’ doubting me.’

You smile, half-resenting how easily he made you do that. ‘Doubting your charm, I’m sure.’

‘Exactly. No faith in the sport.’ He lights the cigarette, taking a long drag like he’s hungry for it. You can’t stop yourself from watching, it’s so captivating that you forget to challenge him on his last statement; too mesmerised and lazy from the drink to ask if sport meant women, and if women meant you.

He pulls you back into conversation by asking, ‘If you had to pick, yeah, between us Shelbys, who’d you pick?’

You blink. ‘For what?’

‘Y’know...’ He shrugs, attempting to play it off, leaving you to fill the blanks.

You scoff and reach for the gin. You don’t remember sitting down with a schoolboy, but the more he drinks the worse he gets. ‘Neither one of us is drunk enough to have this conversation’, you tell him, laughing from behind your glass. When you take a sip, the alcohol singes your throat and for a second you miss the sourness of beer.

‘What if I am?’ he says back. He’s serious, like he’s offended.

‘Then you don’t hold you alcohol well.’

‘Go on,’ he insists, ‘tell me.’

‘Why? What does it matter?’

He tuts and takes another drink. His cheeks are rosy, his lids heavy. The cigarette burns away between his fingers. After a long moment, he says, ‘I thought you could handle yourself, you know.’

You recoil. ‘What d’you mean?’

‘With men. You’ve gone all shy with me.’

‘I definitely have not.’

‘Then why won’t you answer?’ he asks. ‘Pick one.’

‘Fine.’ You set your jaw, holding his gaze for a second. There’s no smooth way out of this, no answer that’ll save face. ‘You.’

It takes every ounce of strength to stop his stupid boyish ego from grinning, you can see it in the fidget of his lips. ‘There,’ he says, ‘that wasn’t hard.’

‘Do you feel better for it?’ you sneer back, rolling your eyes as you reach for your drink. In your mind, picking him was the obvious answer, the only answer, he’s the only one your age. At least, that’s the reasoning you decide to stick with.

‘Yeah, actually.’ He’s finally allowed himself to smile; it shows itself as a smirk, lazy and draped from cheek to cheek. ‘I win.’

‘No you don’t.’ You snort a laugh. ‘This is all hypothetical. If I had to pick, you said.’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ He brings the cigarette to his lips again. ‘You had to, you did, and I won. Easy, innit?’

‘You’re ridiculous.’ He was getting cocky, each quick remark adding fuel to his already steaming locomotive. ‘Picking you over them doesn’t mean anything.’

‘I’ll believe you when you can say it without blushing,’ he answers, barely missing a beat.

You eye him carefully. It didn’t feel like you were blushing, but there’s enough alcohol in you now to betray your senses like that. Instead of answering, you finish your glass, and put it down firmly once it’s empty. He cocks an eyebrow.

‘Well?’ you start. ‘Aren’t you going to get me another?’

‘You’re changing the subject.’

‘I am,’ you agree. ‘But if you want me to stop being shy, I’m gonna have to get a lot drunker.’

He doesn’t hesitate; he shakes his head once, but gets up regardless. He’s either too intoxicated, or too hopeful, to question what you were implying. And, honestly, you’re glad - you haven’t worked it out either yet.

#john shelby imagine #john shelby x reader #john x reader #John Shelby #peaky blinders fanfic #prompt fic #these keep getting longer and longer #i really need to check myself #also female reader sorry i should have said earlier

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dungeonsanddragonsfifthedition · 4 years

Text

cad meta is what i do and i’m having a bad day and need a distraction so here’s some thoughts on all his weird shit last night. in three parts.

part i: “i regret my weakness” is such a line. let’s talk priorities. let’s talk about sureness. let’s talk about people as projects. let’s talk about that fucking commune.

as soon as shit started getting connected, he zoned the fuck out and was like, “yes, i have a way to solve this and help get these connections made.” i’ve missed commune, it’s a good spell, and i like the way melora’s answers are treated. he asked about nott, and then beau (or maybe the other way around?), and then about his family, for the first time.

(maybe it’s because beau pointed out that his lack of attempts seemed odd? maybe it’s because he’s slowly started to realize that he’s a person who can go after his own wants?)

i am... concerned about the vagueness of the answer he received re: his family, but it at least confirms that some of the clays are probably alive and definitely in the menagerie. but it’s the response to that that gets me. it’s how he reacts to that news of, well, everything you’re looking for--or at least most things--are in one place, and your friends are willing to go, even amidst their own issues.

he starts out by calling himself weak, and then refusing to explain that insult to the others. he then begins a repression-disguised-as-selflessness off with beau and nott--two strong competitors in the field. somehow, he wins.

but he was excited the night before. he was ready. he admitted that his path was kind of urgent, but he turned back on that, once he learned that the others were already there. i’ll talk more on this later, but... it doesn’t paint a happy picture of his feelings about his family. the word “abandoned” came up on talks the other week, and i’m standing by that i think that’s the main emotion, here. again, i’ll talk more on that later. fjord called him selfless, in the hot tub talk. caduceus corrected him, and said he was afraid. i don’t think he’s just afraid of them being dead, is the thing. i am still wearing my “Cad Is Sick/Cursed/Withering” hat though, for personal reasons and also because of course that would make the reunions tense. of course.

the fact that he thinks going to the menagerie is “inevitable” and he wants to “spend the time before that doing as much as we can for everybody” lends some weight to this theory--the too-pale, very eccentric, too-thin, always-tired, liar, baby of the family (it happens, so everybody cares and wears the sheep’s clothes while they chaperone) doesn’t want to be taken home. doesn’t want to be breakable and useless. he has people to help, now.

but let’s talk about the other backstory-dodge attemptees, for a second.

cad admires beau. this is canon, i don’t shut up about this. cad genuinely thinks that beau is the coolest person he has ever met, and he’s right. he wants to help her, but he didn’t really know she needed to be helped, but this--well. forest witches and family issues, that’s his fucking wheelhouse. his desire to help her isn’t like his usual help-quests--he’s very much handling this like he handled the trent situation, it seems, where he’s like, “oh, these people hurt you? i hate them and will kill them. i have never had friends before and this is how friendship works.” which is so valid.

nott, meanwhile, we know he has (entirely reasonable imo) beef with. he brought up a part of that beef last week--please just apologize and have a conversation about dying, god. but he wants to help, because he knows nothing if not fixing things, people. he hates it when he doesn’t know how to fix things, people--let’s recall one of his first-ever communes, the too big to fix one. and it’s a character flaw, this, we know. he has a poorly shaped understanding of how non-familial, non-divine, non-transactional relationships work. he deals exclusively in the one-on-one, unless he’s fucking with people or communicating with melora. (”his protector” was a fun new label, matthew.)

so again. witches, curses, feeling weird about going back to the way things were before the nein? kind of his fucking wheelhouse. nott hasn’t been helpable, until now, in his eyes, because she didn’t want to be fixed. but now she does, so--well. now he can try. and it’s fucked up, and it’s shitty, but it’s certainly interesting, too.

part ii: this episode was very centric on family shit in general so as a nice change of pace in between two family drama parts we’re gonna talk about drinking, drugs, and a potential crush on a certain warlock/paladin

we’ve known since the island with the bees that it’s not that he doesn’t like drinking, it’s that he doesn’t like the taste of alcohol, but episode 92 kind of. hit that harder than before. he’ll take whiskey, mixed with juice, and if it’s still nasty, he’ll add hallucinogenic fruit that he’s only ever used before (unless tal’s goof about microdosing the crew was not a goof, which. it was a goof.) to ask melora about vandran. and he’ll enjoy himself! Caduceus Does Drugs was, again, canon, but we’ve never experienced high cad before.

and high cad? rather--crossed cad, because he was drunk, too. crossed cad is a flirt. after being made uncomfortable at the idea of him being related to fjord--who is so handsome, with a nice-looking nose and cool hair--he spends the night just. “fjord you’re so cool. fjord your accent is so hard how do you do accents, fjord. fjord your magic which used to scare me is so cool. fjord your joke was funny.” he gets embarrassed. he facepalms on the bar. as a fellow socially awkward gay, yasha pats him on the back. and then, he continues. just talking to fjord.

he wakes up hungover. he quietly dislikes it. beau quietly notices. nobody else comments.

when they get to kamordah, he drinks again. if i saw things right, for the first time, we see caduceus not wince at the taste of a (non-mead) alcohol. it might have just been a tal-wasn’t-in-character, but iirc, every other time cad’s drank? there’s been some faces made.

something’s up. again, we’ve known for a good amount of time that Caduceus Is Not Okay, and i am the first to advocate for Caduceus Has A Crush, but this episode managed to solidify both of those things very clearly. he doesn’t know what he wants anymore, is the thing. and he’s so lonely.

part iii: back to family drama! fragility, bad dads, and the fact that the nein are more similar than anyone wants to admit

his attempt at using objective language when talking about seeing one’s parents again is sort of what set me off last night. last night was all about shitty parents, and uhhhh well we certainly got some fuel to the “cad’s a little bit angry at his parents” fire last night.

we were talking in the fc server on how a few of us (self-included) are under the impression that cad’s dad is one of the family members already “under the ground,” which reminded me of a terribly long, purple-prosey character analysis thing i wrote in like. june. wherein i posited that caduceus was probably rather young when people started leaving. the maturity line kind of... hinted at that, i think. he’s done a lot of thinking, in the time he’s been alone; it’s kind of implied that he did a lot of his growing up in his time alone.

he didn’t care if thoureau was being genuine or not. he cared to know if thoureau took actual steps for protecting his family, or if he was just paranoid and performative. caduceus clay is a charismatic forest-dwelling witch, raised by forest-dwelling witches, and he knows the types of wards and guards and protections they suggest. he knows the lies they tell those they perceive to be naïve.

did abandonment help beau? is fjord really on some grand destined quest tied all because of a family name? did jester’s loneliness make her the beacon of joy that she appears to be? is caleb forever bound to fix who he was before all of this? is yasha allowed to embrace that she is loved, now? if nott’s problem is solved, will she leave the nein without complaint?

makes you think. or whatever.

#original #text #cr #caduceus clay #long post!#cr spoilers #caduceus #boylore

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wolfpawn · 4 years

Text

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 104

Chapter Summary - After the night out, Danielle and Emma have to organise things around a small hiccup.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

All image rights belong to their owners

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Danielle curled closer to Tom, refusing to acknowledge the morning light that was ebbing its way in the bedroom window.

'How's your head?' Tom sensed she had woken beside him.

'Fine, I told you, I didn't drink too much and I rehydrated when I came home.'

'I need to get up.' Tom went to move but Danielle curled in closer to him. 'Elle.'

'No, you're staying in bed with me.' she held onto him.

'You need to get up too.' He chuckled as he tried to untangle himself from her. 'Jesus, you're clingier than you look.'

'No.'

'Elle, you know I need to go for a run.' He ceased fighting to get loose and instead tilted her head up, kissing her softly. 'I need to stay fit for you.'

'I don't care what you look like.'

'I am sure you do a little.' he argued. 'I am sure part of you wants me to be able to lift you up by the ass and press you against a wall and have the strength to keep you there as I ravish you.'

'Don't need to run for that, that is strength, not endurance.' She pointed out, kissing him again.

'True, but the endurance is needed to keep you satisfied too.'

'I still don't want you to go.'

'Five weeks is going to be hard, isn't it?' Tom ceased playing and instead looked at her solemnly. 'I am going to miss you.'

'You'll be too busy.'

'I will be busy, but that does not mean I will not miss you.' He toyed with her hair. 'I was wondering if you would do something for me when I am away?'

'Sure.'

'I was thinking about getting the kitchen redone, the presses are falling off the hinges at this stage.'

'Good plan.' Danielle concurred. 'What do you need of me?'

'Well before we go, I want us to decide what we want and I will organise the delivery if you...'

'Play the good little housewife and wait in for the guys to come and fit it?' she hampered a guess.

Tom's eyes widened. 'I never meant to imply anything like that, I know you have your own work to do.' he stated immediately.

Danielle only laughed. 'I know, calm down you silly man.' she kissed him lovingly. 'We'll go look at them today and we will arrange a date for the guys to come fit it when I am back from the US, alright?' she kissed him again.

'Today? Are you sure, you said you were busy.'

'Not too busy to spend time with you. Are you sure you want me involved?'

Tom pulled her over in a manner that she was on top of him, her legs straddling him, though not in a sexual manner. 'Elle, this is our home now, ours; meaning mine and yours. And that means when there is a large decision to be made, such as the kitchen, a place you tend to enjoy spending a considerable amount of time in, then you have the right to a say in it.'

'I do little to quash gender stereotyping with my love of cooking and baking,' Danielle laughed.

'You don't often bake,' Tom frowned.

'Only because I would end up eating it all and that is something I try to avoid, I am something of a glutton if left to my own devices.'

'That I can understand. So, I am going to go for my run, you are going to get ready and when I am back and we are both ready, we'll head after lunch, alright?'

'Perfect.'

'That means getting off me and letting me get out of bed Elle.' Tom nudged her slightly to see if he could get her to move any bit.

'Nope.'

'You're terrible.'

* 'For all your talk, you'd think you would have gone for a longer run.' Danielle laughed before turning around, one look at the person looking at her made her force herself not to laugh. 'You look tired.'

'Fuck you. Why did you let me drink all that wine?' Emma groaned.

Danielle put on the kettle and readied a cup with coffee and sugar before going to the medicine cabinet and retrieving another rehydration sachet from the pile she had used herself the night before and making a drink. 'This first, then coffee and toast.'

'How are you so chirpy this morning?'

'I only drank three-quarters of a bottle, you polished off your bottle, the last quarter of mine and another half bottle.' Danielle explained, 'And I drank that stuff when I came home last night.' she pointed to the glass containing the powdered liquid in her friend's hand. 'You refused, you told me you would be fine.'

'What have I told you before about drunk me? Ignore her, she is a sadistic bitch that enjoys causing me pain and misery.' Emma downed the drink before Danielle took the glass and filled it again. 'That stuff tastes like pond water.'

'Works well, though.'

'Evidentially. Age is a factor in it too though.'

Danielle laughed. 'There are eight months between us.'

'Speaking of which, has Tom talked to you about your birthday yet?'

'My birthday is three months away.'

'But you'll be thirty.'

'That means nothing, I am not overly bothered by such things.' Danielle stated before giving her friend the coffee.

'Where is my idiot brother anyway?'

'Went for a run about fifteen minutes ago, I thought you were him when you came in.'

'That would have been a short run.'

'Hence why I said what I said.' Danielle handed her the lightly buttered toast. 'Do you remember us calling Jack last night?'

'Yes, I wasn't absolutely sloshed, thank you.' Emma scoffed. 'Today is going to be a long day.'

'Take a nice long shower, that will set you up better.'

'I am stealing your blue shirt, by the way.'

Danielle rolled her eyes. 'You have more of my clothes at this stage than I do.'

'Well, you're the big set person these days. Speaking of which, how is all that going?'

'Good, I have LA this week to do some sort of meeting.'

'That's fancy.'

'Yes, if only I didn't have to explain things to a boardroom full of men that I don't know and who are probably not too interested in what I have to say, only trying to dismiss me because what I am suggesting is going to cost them money.'

'Studios don't usually have an issue with spending money though, do they?'

'They spend them on huge salaries, fancy locations and big explosions no problem, spending them on "unnecessary backstage stuff" that they have a problem with.' Danielle explained.

'Fun.' Emma drained the last of her tea. 'What time did Jack say he would be here?'

'I think it is ten.' They looked at the clock on the wall. 'You better get ready.' Emma simply groaned and did as her friend suggested.

Danielle felt a pair of arms wrap around her. 'Guess who?' lips pressing to the side of her neck.

'Emma, I warned you your brother will be back in a minute.' Danielle sniggered as Tom growled. 'Hello, how was your run?'

'Alright, someone, and I am not pointing any fingers,' The pair looked at a somewhat guilty looking Mac nearby. 'Was busy trying to chase some little fancy thing in the park, though a few dogs were trying to get to her, I think she was in heat.'

'Mac, you're castrated, you're no use.' Danielle admonished. Mac gave a groan. 'and I don't think she wanted you for your personality, as incredible as it is.' Mac placed his head on his paws, appearing somewhat downtrodden.

Tom chuckled at the manner Danielle interacted with Mac. 'Is Emma awake do you know?'

'Yeah, she came down, feeling a little worse for wear and got tea and toast, she is having a shower now.'

'I'll grab mine.'

'Leave it a minute, she has to go into our room to steal my clothes.'

'I have to ask, do you ever steal hers, because all I ever hear is her stealing yours.'

'Yes, I tend to steal her jackets,' Tom frowned. 'Half the jackets here aren't even mine, they're hers.'

'I knew you would never buy a pink jacket.' Tom commented.

* 'Hey, Jack.' Jack looked somewhat startled as Danielle opened the door. 'She is nearly ready, the hairdryer is just turned off.'

'Good, Dad is in at quarter past eleven, with traffic and parking, I want us to be there on time.'

'What about your mum?'

'Some sort of "Women's only getaway" so he thought to come over here.'

'Good plan.' Danielle nodded. 'Tea?'

'Coffee, please.'

'That good a night?'

'I fell asleep on the couch and I am in bits today.'

'Not fun.' She handed him the mug of hot dark fluid.

'You two had fun, I hear.'

'Yeah, I...' Danielle stopped talking when Tom walked into the room looking worried. 'Hey, what's wrong?'

'That was the kennels, they overbooked and can't take Mac.' He held up his phone.

'But we leave tonight.' Danielle. 'What are we supposed to do with him? We don't have time to bring him to Suffolk.'

'We don't have a choice, do we?' Tom argued. 'I'll cancel the meeting.'

'We'll take him.' They turned to see Emma in the doorway, having stolen the dress Danielle had worn to the Kong premiere. 'Did you bring my shoes?' she asked her husband.

'They're in the car.' Jack replied, still somewhat shocked at his wife's declaration.

'Good. We'll take Mac, we are going to bring Bill to mum's anyway, we can drop him there.'

'That's perfect.' Tom sighed in relief. 'You don't mind?'

'It makes sense.' Jack smiled.

'Elle?' Emma looked at her friend.

Danielle said nothing for a moment. 'I have to be here for two days after I return to get everything sorted, but I did plan on going to Suffolk after that anyway. I need to sort something with the house and I did promise your mum I would redo her garden with her, so I planned on helping her then.'

'Sorted.' Emma smiled. 'By the way, you're not getting this back.' She grinned.

'I have nothing with you.'

'You stole my brother, I am stealing your clothes, fair deal.' Emma beamed. 'We better go.'

With only half a cup of coffee drank, Jack thanked his brother-in-law and friend before grabbing Mac's belongings as Emma and Mac made their way to the car and left for the airport.

'Poor Mac is pillar to post these days.'" Danielle sighed.

'I know, we'll be sorted again soon, once the filming is over, then he is here most of the time with us, or one of us.'

'I checked, I can bring him with me filming.'

'He'll love that.' Tom smiled, kissing her shoulder again after his sister and her husband had driven off. Danielle turned her head to kiss him again. 'We have a long day of work before we go.' she kissed him again. 'Shower together?' her answer was her guiding him upstairs by the hand.

Danielle looked around her as though to even move more than an inch would break something.

'Darling, relax.' Tom chuckled, taking the seat across from her and belting in. 'It's sturdier than you think.'

'I can see why people like to travel by them, though claustrophobia could be an issue for some I would imagine.'

'Yes, it would very much be likely to be magnified, in a tiny plane, thirty thousand feet in the air.' He agreed. 'That is not a concern for us though, is it?'

'No, I can think of several things to preoccupy me for the time it takes to get to Atlanta.' Tom's brow rose slightly, a smug grin coming to his face. 'Not that.'

'We'll see.'

#I Hate You I Love You #chapter 104 #wolfpawn #tom hiddleston #Tom hiddleston fic

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blurry-fics · 5 years

Text

Attitude

Pairing: Josh Dun x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol consumption and drunken behavior, angst

Word Count: 1873

Request: basically Josh and the reader have a love hate relationship, maybe she is best friends with Tyler who we all know is friends with Josh. maybe she loves to push his buttons till one day he admits he is in love with her. i can see it like she gets an attitude and calls Josh our real fast, he laughs his fucking gorgeous laugh and goes “God, i’m in love with you and your attitude.” -@svintsandghosts

Author’s Note: Just realized I diverged from the request a little, but hopefully you still like it! Also, this is the first post with the new schedule. I tried adding a gif this time around, is that something all of you would be interested in as well? I’m just trying lots of new things out. Anyway, enjoy this fic!

“Y/N!” Tyler called from the living room.

You rolled over in bed, groaning to yourself. The clock on the bedside table read 11:30. That was to be expected, you had gone out again last night and stayed out way later than you should have.

“What?” you called back.

“Get up! People are going to be here in like half an hour.”

“Fine, but I’m not happy about it!” you answered.

You got out bed and headed towards the bathroom. The smell of alcohol was still highly evident on your shirt, a result of forgetting to change into a proper pajama shirt when you finally stumbled home. It fell to the floor in an unceremonious heap as you stripped it off and tossed it into the corner of the bathroom.

You wondered who was coming over. Tyler hadn’t mentioned having company, which he was usually pretty good about considering you were roommates. That meant that the plans had been last minute, most likely meaning that it was Josh who was coming over.

Josh.

Whenever you two were together, you always seemed to be pushing one another’s buttons. It had been like that ever since Tyler had introduced the two of you a couple years ago. Things between you had been normal at first, until the one fateful day that you learned just how fun it was to see Josh mildly annoyed. Your relationship hadn’t been the same ever since.

You pushed the thought from your mind and instead directed your attention to getting ready for the day. One glance in the mirror told you that you looked just about as bad as you currently felt. A shower would help you feel--and look--a little better, you hoped.

“Who’s coming over today?” you asked as you arrived downstairs.

Tyler was in the kitchen, making himself some toast. You walked over and leaned against the counter.

“Josh for sure. There were a couple other people that said they might be able to hang out today, but they didn’t have a definite answer.”

“Great,” you muttered.

“Hey, maybe you two will get along today.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “And the sun will set in the east too.”

“Come on, Y/N,” Tyler said as you made yourself some cereal. “I know you two could get along really well if you tried.”

“But it’s just so much more fun to press all his buttons! I mean, you’ve seen the face he makes when I sit too close to him, right?”

Tyler sighed, “Many times.”

“So you get it!”

Tyler grabbed his plate of toast and moved into the dining room, “No.”

“Fine, I’ll try to be civil for you, Ty. But if he makes one comment that rubs me the wrong way, it’s game over.”

“As long as you try to be nice.”

“I think your definition of nice is different than mine,” you huffed as you sat down at the table.

“You know, I think you two could really get a good thing going if you weren’t at each other’s throats every second of the day.”

You snorted, “Ty, you aren’t really implying what I think you are, are you?”

“I’m just saying, there may be a deeper meaning behind why you two are always pushing the other’s buttons.”

“Definitely not. I could never imagine being any type of intimate with Josh.”

“Sure,” Tyler said before taking a bite of his toast.

You idly stirred your cereal around as you thought over Tyler’s words. Thankfully, he was too busy looking at his phone to notice the color that was now in your cheeks. The relationship between you and Josh wasn’t anything other than your stereotypical love-hate friendship.

Right?

“Josh is here!” Tyler called up the stairs.

“Ok!” you answered.

You grabbed a sweatshirt from the back of your desk chair and pulled it on as you headed down the stairs. The boys were already in the living room as you arrived downstairs, and Tyler had done you the honor of leaving an empty spot on the couch next to Josh. With a sigh, you made yourself comfortable at the end of the couch.

“You’re awake,” Josh smiled. “After how much you drank last night, I thought you would have been sleeping your hangover away.”

“Trust me, that’s what I wish I was doing.”

Tyler shot you a look from the other end of the couch, but you ignored it. Josh, on the other hand, seemed amused by your comeback.

“Glad we’re on the same page then.”

Tyler sighed and ruffled his hair, “I was really fooling myself when I thought you two were going to get along today, huh?”

“Probably,” Josh laughed.

You slowly began to stretch out your legs so that your feet were pressed against Josh’s thigh. The second that he noticed, he pressed his tongue into his cheek and slowly turned to you. He raised an eyebrow, but you simply smiled at him.

“Y/N.”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

“My legs were getting tired from being bent, so I decided to stretch a little.”

“And that involves touching me, why?”

“Well, you’re kind of taking up the whole middle of the couch, so I don’t really know how you expect me to sit here and not touch you.”

“Tyler is doing it just fine.”

You looked to Tyler, who simply shook his head a little. He obviously wouldn’t be of any help in this situation.

“Fine,” you huffed, swiveling your body so that your legs were now rested on the coffee table. “Better?”

“Yes.”

You crossed your arms and tried to mask the fact that you were disappointed you could no longer annoy Josh. Meanwhile, he had turned to Tyler and began to talk about a festival that they had played together recently. Since there wasn’t much you could contribute to the conversation, you leaned back against the pillows and closed your eyes.

“Feeling alright, Y/N?” Tyler asked.

Apparently you hadn’t been as well rested as you thought, considering Tyler’s voice had pulled you back from the edge of being asleep. You slowly blinked your eyes open and leaned up so that you could see him.

“Still don’t feel great after last night,” you laughed.

“That’s because you were plastered,” Josh chimed in.

“You drank just as much as I did.”

“At least I could walk straight at the end of the night.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault that the sidewalk was wobbling.”

Josh mocked what you were saying, so you reached out and shoved his arm. He barely moved, which only added to your annoyance.

“You want to try that again?” Josh asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” you huffed as you crossed your arms.

Tyler had pulled out his phone in an attempt to block out the feud between you and Josh. He looked up when he realized that you two had stopped fighting.

“Are you two done now?” he asked.

You threw an arm into the air, “I’m not the one causing the problem.”

Josh’s eyebrows shot straight into the air as he turned to look at you, “Are you implying that I am?”

“It’s not an implication when what you’re saying is fact.”

“All I said was that you got really drunk last night, then you turned it into an argument.”

“No, I said that we drank the same amount and then you had to make a comment about me not being able to walk.”

“Because you couldn’t!”

“I’m getting lunch, do you two want anything?” Tyler announced, putting a temporary end to the debate.

“Where are you going?” you asked.

“The sandwich place down the street.”

“I’ll just have my usual.”

“Me too.”

“Great,” Tyler said. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

“You’re just leaving us here?” you asked.

“Aw, are you scared of not having Tyler here to back you up?” Josh teased.

“No,” you retaliated, although you weren’t sure how truthful it was.

“Try not to tear each other’s heads off while I’m gone,” Tyler said before disappearing out the front door.

The house became eerily quiet as soon as the door shut. You adjusted yourself a bit to try and get rid of the uncomfortable feeling that had formed in your stomach.

“I’m surprised it took him that long to get fed up and leave,” Josh said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, that might be a record.”

You and Josh shared a look and began to laugh. If there was one thing that never failed to unite the two of you, it was annoying Tyler.

“Are you actually feeling ok? You were in pretty bad shape last night.”

“Yeah, I’m ok,” you smiled, although you were a bit skeptical at his change in demeanor. “I just had a lot on my mind and needed a break from all of it. And everyone knows that drinking to forget is always a healthy coping mechanism.”

“You making questionable decisions isn’t really new information.”

You shot him a look and tried to ignore how much his statement had actually hurt you.

“Not all of us are as well-adjusted as you, Josh,” you retorted, adding a hint of anger to your tone.

“I’m not trying to take a dig at you, Y/N.”

“Then what was the point of that statement?”

“I’m just saying you don’t always take care of yourself like you should and it worries me.”

You should have known that any moment of peace between you and Josh would quickly be ended by some snarky comment.

“When have you ever been concerned about me? You just like to push my buttons and laugh when I get upset. We have a love-hate relationship, Josh, that’s just how it goes.”

“Y/N, I-”

You cut him off, “I just don’t understand why you’re even pretending like you care right now. Tyler isn’t here, it’s not like he’s going to see you being nice to me and think any more of you.”

“Can I just-”

“No, I’m not done talking,” you huffed. “I’m tired of you acting like you’re so much better than me and know so much more about the world just because I’m a few years younger than you and Tyler. It doesn’t mean that-”

“Can you just shut up and let me say what I need to say?”

“Why don’t you come over here and make me?”

Josh answered by leaning forward and pulling you into a kiss. You were surprised at first, but you quickly relaxed into it and rested a hand on his chest. His heart was pounding so hard that you could feel it against your fingertips. When he finally pulled away, you couldn’t think of anything to say.

“God, I’m in love with you and your attitude,” he whispered.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard that,” you giggled.

Josh moved back to where he had previously been sitting just in time for Tyler to open the door and walk inside. He was whistling to himself, completely unaware of the entire exchange that had just occurred between you and Josh.

“It’s so quiet in here,” he said as he set the food on the coffee table. “I’m surprised you two aren’t arguing.”

“Yeah,” you said, sharing a knowing look with Josh. “Me too.”

70 notes · View notes

fiddler-unroofed · 5 years

Text

{four instances of a favor}

(quick author notes: the timeline skips a lot & I used greek for halfling because why not)

warnings for lowkey suicidal thoughts but generally just trying to convince yourself you’re okay with dying, and some mentioned but not very descriptive wounds

Prompt from @idonottlikethishellsite: from the list of shit i hope never actually happens-- been thinking a lot about how reincarnate is the lowest lvl spell that could change nott into something other than a goblin but would require her to die first. the thought of nott purposely wanting to use that spell and trying to talk caleb into it keeps me up nights.

***

"Would you ever let me die?"

The question is asked innocently enough, but it still gives Caleb pause. He turns to look at Nott, but she doesn't meet his glance. Her feet dangle over the tavern table she's sitting on. At her side, her flask lies, their cause for visit.

Caleb nods. "Ja," he says flatly. "Over my dead body."

(Not that it's worth much.)

Nott smiles at him, but it's strained. Her lips are clamped over her teeth like she's holding a secret. "That's very sweet."

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason." Her fingers twist into each other, and she fiddles with them aimlessly. Her feet have started to swing under the table. "Just one of those silly thoughts I get sometimes, Caleb, you know me."

"Mm." He does know her, and that's what worries him. It's only been a few weeks, and already he knows her like the back of his hand, like the color of the sky. He'd know her blind or deaf. Which, by the way, he'd have to be in order to believe such an obvious lie.

He lets it drop anyway. “Long day tomorrow," he says instead, and carefully watches for her reaction. “Lots of shopping.”

It worries him more when she gives him none. "Yeah," she says. Absently. Like she's still turning something over in her mind, molding it into shape. Caleb knows what's it like to overthink things, (he knows it far too well) and he knows it's not what's happening here-- but for the life of him he can't figure out what is.

"Yeah," he echoes in her voice. And then, returning to his own: "I was thinking we could stop by a book shop I found on the way here. It sold many things-- mostly books-- but I think you would like it." He tries for a smile. It falls short. They always do. "Lots of trinkets. For your collection."

Nott's expression remains blank, but by the way her ears droop Caleb knows his approach backfired. Shit.

"My collection," she agrees, fake cheerfully. It sounds as far from sincere as he's ever heard her. "I do love trinkets."

Caleb drops the pretense. "Look," he says hesitantly, "I know I am not the best person to talk to about... things. Or stuff. Or anything, really. But if there is something troubling your mind, something that I am able to help with--"

"No, no," Nott interrupts him. She jumps off the table and dusts herself off briskly. "I'm fine. I swear it. Just drank a drop too much, and well..." She gestures to herself sheepishly. "I'm not always a happy drunk, I guess. I'll be right as rain in the morning."

"Ah," Caleb says. He wants to believe her. He wants it more than anything else right now. "That is all?"

"That's all," Nott promises. She leans up, on tiptoes, and beckons for him to bend down. Caleb does, and before he knows it a sudden warmth tinges his forehead and Nott's pulling away with a look that he can only describe as familiar. He blinks at her owlishly, and she smiles. Still through clamped lips.

"Night, Caleb," she says, turning on her heel and already making her way across the tavern to where they've scoured up enough coin to book a room for the night.

"Good night," he says. He doesn't think she heard him.

Slowly, he reaches up and presses his fingers (the fingers of a murderer) against his forehead. The warmth has already left it.

"Good night," he repeats to no one in particular. It is a good night. No, maybe good is not that right word. It is a strange night, is what it is. Only on strange nights do your little goblin friends ask you odd questions and don't tell you what's wrong and kiss you on the forehead (it's so familiar, like his own mother's when she'd tuck him in at night) before going to sleep at 10 pm.

But then again, he reasons, she gave you her excuse. Who are you not to trust her? She says she drank too much, and this is another side to her you have yet to see. Just because you know her a few weeks does not actually mean you know her a lifetime. Who are you to claim that she's lying?

He stands up, a little more satisfied with his choice, and goes to head after where Nott left. The flask shines forlornly as he passes it, and he takes it by habit, shaking his head a bit at his little friend's forgetfulness.

Then he stops.

The flask is still full.

***

“D'you think you'd be upset?”

They've been on the road a while now, and Caleb is getting antsy. Only a while ago did they encounter a pack of vicious hyena-like creatures (he thinks they're called gnolls) and only a while ago did he have to watch as his little friend nearly got slashed in two. He tried to patch her up, tried to look past the amounts of crimson pouring out of her and do his best, but he's no cleric. Just a wizard.

(Just nothing.)

Nott trails after him now, her eyes drooping and with the faint tinge of iron to her scent. As she asks the question, she sways a bit, and Caleb instantly slows down.

“Upset?” he asks. “Over what?”

Nott shrugs. “Me. I dunno. If I died.”

Caleb stares at her, but she's resolute in not meeting his gaze. Something about the whole scene rings familiar in his mind, and he strains, trying to remember where they might have had this conversation before. A tavern? No matter.

“Ja,” he says, slowly. “I think I would be very upset.”

“Oh.” She rubs at her eyes. “Well, er… how upset? Like on a one to ten scale, maybe? Can I get an approx--”

“Nott,” Caleb says, and gods help him he's already starting to get upset thinking about it, “Are you planning something?”

Nott has the nerve to look offended. “What? No!”

“Then what are you asking me for?”

“It just doesn't make sense to me, that's all.” Nott shrugs, and her footsteps quicken a bit. Caleb picks up the pace as well. “I mean, you could always just revive me, right? You're a wizard. You're magic--” (and oh, how beautiful the word sounds on her lips, like glitter and awe and everything magic was, once, everything magic should be) “--and you're powerful. I don’t think I’d be gone for long.”

(Too powerful, some might say.)

Caleb swallows, and tastes bile at the back of his throat. “Yes, that is true. But I'm no cleric, Nott. And the idea of me reviving you does not cancel out how horrifying you dying would be.”

A pause.

“Do you. Want to die?”

No response. Not even a whisper. Caleb's heart sinks, and for a second, flames flicker in his eyes. He thinks about Nott, jumping in front of him to confront the gnolls. Nott, completely fine with the idea of being torn apart if it meant he would get away safe.

He grabs her arm. She freezes, and Caleb instantly adjusts his grip so it's not hurting her.

“I do not know what you're hiding,” he says softly. “But please. You know you can talk to me, ja? You know that I am here for you? I would do everything in my power for you. You know that, don't you?”

She looks up at him, just two golden eyes blinking in the dark. The mask hides her lower face, and he hates it. Hates not knowing what she's thinking. Hates only being able to read half of her.

“Yes,” she finally says, and relaxes in his grip. “I know. Thank you, Caleb.”

He lets go. That's not the answer he wanted, but he's never been one to push the matter. And Nott seems tired as it is right now.

“Let's camp out here for the night.”

“Okay.”

She helps him light the fire.

For once, his parents are the last thing on his mind.

***

“Caleb!”

Caleb looks up reluctantly from where he's poured over the newest book he's bought. It's a fascinating text all about transmutation and history, and it's wrapped up in the kind of red leather case that makes his heart skip a beat. Being broken out of the trance that comes with it is beyond infuriating.

He opens his mouth to snap out a ‘go away i'm reading’, but stops when he sees Nott's face. It's flushed and excited, pupils round and smile stretching from ear to ear. Something good must have happened. And he always has time for a shred of good news.

He slowly puts the book down and beckons her inside. She looks like she might explode.

“You seem... happy,” he says.

She nods, head bobbing as if on a spring. “As a matter of fact, I am!” she says giddily. “Read this.”

She shoves a bright blue book in his hands (where did she even get that) and waits, bouncing on the balls of her feet impatiently as Caleb examines it. It's a fairly old book, nothing like the red one Caleb was just reading but still in its decades. He squints at the letters before identifying them as Halfling.

He doesn't read Halfling.

Where on earth did Nott get this book?

He hands it back to her in confusion. “I appreciate the literary enthusiasm,” he says slowly, “But Halfling is a tongue I do not speak.”

“No, I know that,” Nott says in a voice that implies she did not, in fact, know that. “But it's a really easy passage, just go to page 117 and you'll see, I've taught you all the words you need to know!”

Caleb sighs and obliges her. Page 117 is in the middle of the book, and based on the scribbled in pencil marks and circled words, he has a feeling it's also the most read part.

He starts to read.

Reincarnation

Casting Time: 1 ώρα

Έκταση: Touch

Components: Σπάνια oils and αλλά πράγματα αξίας at least 1,000 gold και τα λοιπά, δεντρολίβανο

Duration: Instantaneous

Εσύ touch a dead humanoid ή ενα piece of a dead humanoid. Εξαρτιόταν ότι the creature has been dead no longer than 10 days, the spell forms a new ηλικιωμένο body for it and then καλεί την soul to enter το body. If the target’s soul isn’t free or willing να το κάνει, the spell fails and

He closes the book.

“Nott,” he says, and the dread coiling around his heart is all too familiar to him, all too cold and heavy, “what is this?”

Nott grins. “It's a spell, Caleb! A spell that can change people! Isn't it wonderful?”

“Yes,” Caleb says, and pinches the bridge of his nose. His parents’ form flickers in front of him when he closes his eyes. After a second, Nott's joins them.

He hands her back the book and stands up. His foot has fallen asleep, and he tries to shake it awake again but it's too late, now his other foot is asleep too and he's numb all over, numb and cold and confused.

“Why did you show me this?” he asks.

Nott looks at him like it should be obvious. “For me,” she says simply. “I didn't think it was real at first. I don't know much about magic and spells and things, so I thought maybe it wasn't. But then I looked more carefully, searched a few bookstores, nicked a few tomes and-- here it is. The spell that can change me. Reincarnation!”

She does a giddy little jump. Caleb can only stare. He knows how Nott feels about herself. He knows her hopes and dreams, even if they'd never crossed her lips to him. He knows more than she thinks. He always does.

But in this moment, he feels like he doesn't even know who he's talking to.

“Nott,” he says. “This spell requires way too many things than we can afford.”

Her ears droop, but she's still smiling, undeterred. “Like what?”

“Oils. 1000 gold. More things I cannot read.”

Nott laughs, and it's all wrong, this whole conversation is wrong and Caleb wants to go back to reading his red book and acting like this never happened. “Oh, don't worry, I have quite a bit of coin saved on the side. Just a few more months and I'll probably have even more than that book asks for!”

“And the oils?”

“I'll nick them. I dunno. I'll find a way.” She grins. “Oils, Caleb, really, is that what you think is gonna throw me off after all this time?”

“No,” Caleb says, and he hears a faint ringing in his ears, “But I thought the fact that your corpse is required might.”

For the first time, Nott looks a little disturbed. Not a lot. It's barely noticeable, just a quick flit across her big yellow eyes, but it's enough to make Caleb feel better, if only for a moment.

Then the doubt is broken, Nott is clearing her throat, and the ringing in Caleb’s ears has returned.

“Well,” she says simply, “you thought wrong.”

And Caleb leaves the room.

***

“I'll do it without you if I have to.”

Caleb doesn't even turn his head. It's way past midnight where they're staying, and both of them should be sleeping-- but of course, neither of them are.

Neither of them have for what seems like months.

There's a moment before Nott speaks again, her raspy voice slicing through the silence like a knife. “I don't want to. But I will.”

“How will you do that,” Caleb says flatly.

A muffled huff from Nott informs him that his friend isn't sure either. “I don't know yet,” she finally admits. “But I'll find a way. I always do.”

“It's a powerful spell.”

“I have powerful friends.”

“It's difficult.”

“It's worth it for me.”

Caleb nearly pinches his nose on instinct, but stops just in time. He can't bear to close his eyes anymore. They've started playing tricks on him again. They'll show him Nott burned into the insides of his eyelids, Nott bleeding out on the ground and Nott with her little limbs all twisted up and Nott with fire consuming her from the inside out--

He realizes his mouth has gone dry. He swallows.

“You want to die,” he says. It's not a question.

He can almost hear Nott’s shrug, almost hear the flicker of doubt smothered under fierceness. “No. No, I don't want it. But I'm willing to.” A small laugh. “I've always been willing to. For Jester, and Beau, and Fjord, and you--” her voice catches a bit, but she plows on “--and Molly… why can't I do it for myself for once?”

Caleb doesn't answer her. He doesn't know what he'd say.

There's another beat of silence before Nott speaks again.

“I was so happy when I heard about it,” she confesses quietly. “I didn’t even know about the coming back as me part. I thought that when I died, I’d come back as someone brand new. And I was fine with that, I really was, but then I thought of you and I didn’t tell you about it and I dropped my research because I knew you'd get cross, and I knew you'd get sad, but then you said you'd do everything in your power for me, that one night we fought the gnolls together, don't you remember, and I started to look into it more actively, and I thought--” A sigh. “I don't know what I thought.”

She rolls over from where she's curled at the bottom of the bed like a cat, and even through the dark Caleb can feel her eyes, two golden pinpricks almost like lanterns trained on him.

“Please, Caleb,” she whispers. “I need this. I've always needed this.”

“But I need you,” he says. It’s such a selfish thing to say, such a selfish reason,

(but he’s always been a pretty selfish man, hasn’t he?)

“I’ll still be here,” she says. “You’d bring me back as me. It’d still be me.”

“My hands were built for destroying,” he says. The words burn as he speaks them but he knows they need to be said. “Not for creating. And any creation built from destruction is a creation I want no part in.”

His breath rattles in his chest as he says his next sentence, all in one go, not letting it burn anymore than it has to: “I can't do this for you, Nott. I'm sorry.”

Silence. It stretches on for so long that Caleb half thinks Nott's fallen asleep, and a part of him hopes she has, hopes so desperately that she'll let this conversation be nothing but a bad dream in the morning.

But hope's done nothing but fail him so far, and tonight does not intend to prove an exception.

“Well,” Nott says, and it's the emptiest Caleb's ever heard her, “Then I guess I’ll have to find someone that can.”

They don’t speak again.

76 notes · View notes

ademainalors · 6 years

Text

Doing this

1: I’m afraid my name will have to stay ademainalors ;)

2: 20

3: 3 Fears

The afterlife

Immortality

Mortality

4: 3 things I love

Anime

My Dell Latitude E6410

Cartoons that cannot technically be called anime

5: 4 turns on

Power

Intelligence

Strange hair

Complex understanding of trauma

6: 4 turns off

Misogyny

Homophobia

Clingyness

7: My best friend

Brie or Kyle, although to be honest, I haven’t talked with many humans in the past several months, so at this point, both individuals probably only consider me as a regular friend

8: Sexual orientation

Pansexual

9: My best first date

Aromantic, I never knew, but they were all awful

10: How tall am I

5″ 5′

11: What do I miss

When Zack used to do house rules DND with me, Kyle and Armstrong

12: What time were I born

Heck if I know

13: Favourite color

#ff0000

14: Do I have a crush

I tend not to pay my crushes much mind now that I’ve come to terms with my aromanticism, but when Nathan joked about how he’d want to fuck someone in the server closet, in my head I was like, name a time

15: Favourite quote

16: Favourite place

The Japanese Library

17: Favourite food

Pasta

18: Do I use sarcasm

No, never, not me ever

19: What am I listening to right now

The silence of the void (that’s not an edgy band name... yet)

20: First thing I notice in new person

Their relationship to power

21: Shoe size

10 I think? Fun fact, I religiously wear crocs, and crocs actually stretch out with use, so my crocs have been growing with my feet.

22: Eye color

Hazel

23: Hair color

Brown

24: Favourite style of clothing

I was talking to Kyle about Queer Eye, and I said, “You know what they would say to me if they saw me, they would say I wear clothes that nobody would ever wear because no clothes express my gender, and then they would fix that” And he told me I was perceptive. My favorite shirt is an MPR Volunteer shirt that has no gender.

25: Ever done a prank call?

Nope

27: Meaning behind my URL

What Adrien says to Marinette at the end of the umbrella scene, “See you around” in french

28: Favourite movie

Tangled, but in Spanish

29: Favourite song

Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story

30: Favourite band

Baths

31: How I feel right now

Overwhelmed

32: Someone I love

My parents platonically

33: My current relationship status

Single

34: My relationship with my parents

Good

35: Favourite holiday

36: Tattoos and piercing i have

I have my ears pierced

37: Tattoos and piercing i want

I’d prefer to keep those Japanese bathhouse privileges

38: The reason I joined Tumblr

I shared a blog with Kyle on Blogger and he wanted it moved because Blogger sucks

39: Do I and my last ex hate each other?

I’m irritated with my last ex, as my last relationship made me realize I was aromantic and that I was doing painful amounts of emotional labor and downright fraud in the name of normalicy

40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts?

Nope

41: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted?

My dad? Platonically

42: When did I last hold hands?

In my last relationship

43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning?

30 Minutes

44: Have You shaved your legs in the past three days?

I haven’t shaved them in the past three years!

45: Where am I right now?

My room

46: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me?

Nobody, that’s why I don’t drink

47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level?

At a reasonable level

48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad?

Yes

49: Am I excited for anything?

If I’m being honest, no, but there are several things I would tell people about IRL if I were asked

50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to?

Is the opposite of non-binary cisgender, or another non-binary? Doesn’t matter, the answer is no

51: How often do I wear a fake smile?

Too much

52: When was the last time I hugged someone?

My dad, platonically, two weeks ago

53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me?

I wouldn’t care

54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not?

My lab partner for this goddamn lab report

55: What is something I disliked about today?

My lack of productivity

56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

Justin Trudeau

57: What do I think about most?

My time efficiency

58: What’s my strangest talent?

Mechanum: I can execute complete instructions perfectly, and I can memorize sets of complete instructions. So if I get a set of complete instructions, I can master the task associated. I am very good at extremely divergent tasks due to this.

59: Do I have any strange phobias?

Having to attend SCSU

60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

Behind. Pansonic HMC150s are the bomb .com

61: What was the last lie I told?

I told a group of people that I was sick. I’m actually just anxious and depressed, which is it’s own kind of sick, but I implied influenza.

62: Do I perfer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

Video chat.

63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

Aliens probably, but they likely formed at the same time we did and are either too far or lackluster like dolphins. Ghosts, not really.

64: Do I believe in magic?

I bought a spell from a witch down on money, I just like witches though, I’m not wiccan

65: Do I believe in luck?

100%

66: What’s the weather like right now?

Clear night skies?

67: What was the last book I’ve read?

Sedra Smith, Microelectric Circuits

68: Do I like the smell of gasoline?

69: Do I have any nicknames?

None that I like, except 雨

70: What was the worst injury I’ve ever had?

Concussion, 6th grade skiing accident

71: Do I spend money or save it?

Mostly save

72: Can I touch my nose with a tounge?

Nope

73: Is there anything pink in 10 feets from me?

Yup, my blankets are pink, should change 74: Favourite animal? 75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM?

Sleeping

76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is?

Ochocki-Becker

77: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it?

Get it together, by the Go-Team 78: How can you win my heart?

You can’t. I’ll be your QP if we make a utilitarian symbiotic domestic partnership. I’ll fuck you if you’re sexy and can somehow manage to not trigger memories of my sexual assault, but like, that won’t happen.

79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone?

Rest in Pieces

80: What is my favorite word?

です

81: My top 5 blogs on tumblr

I’m not here to start a war, though one of them is haiku bot

82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say?

We are not Trump

83: Do I have any relatives in jail?

Nope

84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power?

Pausing time

85: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on?

Tell me about your sexual history

86: What is my current desktop picture?

Me standing next to a no parking sign in Japanese in a small town in rural Minnesota

87: Had sex?

Yes

88: Bought condoms?

Kind of

89: Gotten pregnant?

90: Failed a class?

I have more W’s than a web address but no F’s

91: Kissed a boy?

Yes

92: Kissed a girl?

Yes

93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain?

94: Had job?

Yes

95: Left the house without my wallet?

Yes

96: Bullied someone on the internet?

Actually, surprisingly, Kyle. We’re cool now.

97: Had sex in public?

98: Played on a sports team?

Yep, 3rd grade, Softball. I wanted to play baseball and I hated it.

99: Smoked weed?

100: Did drugs?

101: Smoked cigarettes?

102: Drank alcohol?

Confirmation wine, a sip of champaign that I spat out, a sip of gin that I spat out. I can taste the death of my mouth microbiota when I put alcohol in my mouth

103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan?

Vegetarian

104: Been overweight?

Nope

105: Been underweight?

Probably

106: Been to a wedding?

Yes

107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight?

まいにち

108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight?

はい、アニメを見ます。

109: Been outside my home country?

Nope

110: Gotten my heart broken?

I don’t have one, but I found out a FWB hated non binaries. It was kind of crushing.

111: Been to a professional sports game?

Yep

112: Broken a bone?

Nope

113: Cut myself?

Sort of, TW: I pick at the skin around my toenails, sometimes with pushpins

114: Been to prom?

115: Been in airplane?

Yep, Houston

116: Fly by helicopter?

117: What concerts have I been to?

The FIRST Robotics concert

118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex?

Yep

119: Learned another language?

はい、すごし

120: Wore make up?

Yeah, I hate it

121: Lost my virginity before I was 18?

TW: Is rape virginity

122: Had oral sex?

Yeah, it sucked.

123: Dyed my hair?

124: Voted in a presidential election?

Hillary Clinton

125: Rode in an ambulance?

Yes, concussion

126: Had a surgery?

Wisdom teeth removal

127: Met someone famous?

Dessa

128: Stalked someone on a social network?

Probably

129: Peed outside?

130: Been fishing?

Yes

131: Helped with charity?

Yes

132: Been rejected by a crush?

Yes

133: Broken a mirror?

Yes

134: What do I want for birthday?

Cash

135: How many kids do I want and what will be their names?

Adopting teenagers, they’ll have names already, probably one, but maybe more if they’ve got sibs, Despicable Me style.

136: Was I named after anyone?

Something

137: Do I like my handwriting?

No, it’s an abomination

138: What was my favourite toy as a child?

Piglet

139: Favourite Tv Show?

Assasination Classroom

140: Where do I want to live when older?

Minnesota doncha no?

141: Play any musical instrument?

Used to play trombone

142: One of my scars, how did I get it?

Scootering accident

143: Favourite pizza toping?

Alfredo sauce instead of tomato sauce

144: Am I afraid of the dark?

No 145: Am I afraid of heights?

Yes 146: Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad?

No 147: Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end?

The midterm two days ago

148: What I’m really bad at

Reading university textbooks

149: What my greatest achievments are

Student Senate President

150: The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me

I was in a political argument and some bitch brought my yellow teeth into it

151: What I’d do if I won in a lottery

Take the payments over time, put in a bank account, pay off people’s loans on the contidition they try to pay off other people’s loans, put solar panels on things, buy a tesla

152: What do I like about myself

My hair 153: My closest Tumblr friend

@dragon-in-a-fez 154: Something I fantasise about

Being dictator of the US 155: Any question you’d like?

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oblio-k · 6 years

Text

i Only write self-indulgent fics so here’s something from later on in my story about the USS Nobility, a sovereign-class starship that’s on a mission of exploration ~18 years after ds9, which focuses on Ensign Molly O’Brien, a science officer. This one’s about her friendship with the virologist on board, Mekor Dukat Yek.

Also on AO3

Taste and Distaste

They were laying underneath the view port, an almost empty bottle of kanar between them. Mekor hadn’t drank any of it, but Molly had consumed a considerable amount of it, and was definitely feeling the effects. She had been wary when he offered the red encrusted bottle to her, but he could be irritatingly convincing, so she’d popped it open and taken a sip of the viscous substance.

It wasn’t very good. Most things Cardassia had the faint taste of metal, but then the alcohol content had hit her, and she’d agreed to drink it while they talked.

Their ‘hang out’ time was important to the both of them. Molly had many friends on board, but she knew the only other people Mekor was close to were Doctor Yek, Saint, and Ensign Hoji Andu. Though he enjoyed their company, they weren’t exactly friends. Ensign Hoji was still nervous around Cardassians, and saw Mekor as a sort of brother-figure instead of a friend. Mekor viewed him as a youth that he was happy to give advice to.

Doctor Yek, as Mekor’s husband, couldn’t fill the spot of friend like she did. Molly had no doubt the two of them were friends as well as lovers, but Mekor was Yek’s chosen host, first and foremost. And Saint was his son, so Mekor would always see himself as the boy’s parent more than a friend. She wasn’t even sure Cardassians saw being friends with their relatives as important.

So she was the only one on the Nobility that could fulfill that role, and she did it gladly.

“Do you ever think about your home planet, Mekor?”

“On occasion, I remember Cardassia. I don’t like to. Do you often think of Earth?”

“Not as often as I should, I think. I think about Bajor, too. ‘Cause I grew up on the station.”

“My father’s station.”

“Captain Sisko’s station,” she corrected. Mekor huffed a laugh. “And now Aunt Nerys’ station.”

“Nerys?”

“Admiral Kira.”

“Ah. Any true relation, or is this another of your parents’ friends?”

“She was the Bajoran surrogate that carried my younger brother.”

“I see.”

“Your dad used to harass her all the time.”

Mekor made a disgusted sound. “Would you pass on to her that I sincerely apologize for my father’s behavior? How distasteful of him.”

“We could- we could call her. Tell her yourself. It’ll mean a lot to her, and I meant to introduce her to you and Saint.” She sat up, convinced. “We can go to my quarters and call right now.”

Mekor stared at her. When he realized she was serious, he raised his brow ridges. He slowly sat up, careful not to jostle his son, who Molly was pretty sure was sleeping on top of him. The boy didn’t seem to notice being moved, but Molly couldn’t be certain. Not with his life support helmet covering his helmet.

He tilted his head and asked, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Absolutely! It’ll make her day. Night. I don’t know what time it is on the station.” She stood up, swaying on her feet. Mekor rose and used one arm to steady her. She beamed at him. “Thanks!”

“To your quarters, then?”

“To my quarters!”

Mekor hoped that Molly would change her mind as they walked to crew quarters, but she remained just as eager as the moment she thought of the idea. A few people stared at them as they walked, and some of the officers whom Mekor recognized as Molly’s friends laughed.

“Need any help, Mekor?”

“I believe we can return her to her quarters on our own.”

His son made a little trilling sound, happy to be included. Molly made a delighted noise and reached over to give his arm a squeeze. “Saint, you’re awake! Hello, little guy- how are you feeling today?”

“Good,” a robotic voice answered, as the life support suit translated the high pitched chirp he made. Mekor was proud to hear him talk to someone other than him or his husband.

Molly got over the novelty of hearing her friend’s son speak quickly, and surged forward. “Let’s keep going!”

“I obey.”

She laughed, turning to give him a lopsided smile as they walked down the hall. “Sometimes you really sound like a soldier.” She laughed harder when he cringed. “You’d make a poor soldier, though.”

“I am unsure whether or not that is an insult, Molly.”

She thought for a moment, and then elaborated, “You’re too much of a family man to be a soldier. And you hate leadership.”

“That is true. I have no desire to pursue a military career. My only wish is to raise Saint to be a healthy and happy adult. And-” He could see her begin to ask a question, and knew exactly what it was. “-I still do not understand what pants and relationships have to do with one another, but I do defer to Yek’s judgement more often than not.”

“Yeah. But doesn’t he drug you all the time?”

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything. I listen to him because he is older than I, and has more experience. As for the venom, I choose to allow him to inject me. It is for Saint’s welfare.”

“I guess, but doesn’t that seem kind of creepy?”

“Molly, Yek has never injected me without my permission. He would not force me to agree with him by intoxicating me. Frankly, I’m insulted that you would imply that he is somehow controlling my decisions. If you weren’t drunk, I would be angry.”

“Sorry. Just wondered.”

“Apology accepted. Do not bring it up again.”

“I was worried, for a second-”

“Molly. I do not wish to continue this conversation. Please, change the subject. How exactly do you plan to introduce me to your aunt? I can’t imagine she’ll be happy to see me standing next to you. I bear a close resemblance to my father, after all.”

Molly struggled a bit with her computer console, both due to intoxication and how dim Mekor had kept the lights, but managed to send a call to Nerys. She slumped back in her chair. Mekor dragged over a second one and sat down near her. Saint was sitting on his lap, patting his arm softly and making cooing sounds.

“Good. Warm. Good. Safe. Warm...” Mekor pressed a button on his son’s helmet, and it ceased translating. Then he wrapped his other arm around the boy. Saint patted that one too, still cooing. Molly reached over and patted his arm as well. Mekor gave her a look, and she pulled her hand away.

Her console beeped as Nerys answered, and Molly beamed. She tapped the console, and Nerys’ face showed up on screen. She was in uniform, the lights bright around her. “Molly, how are you?”

“Aunt Nerys!”

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

“I am. I drank a lot with my friend. He didn’t drink any, because he has his kid with him.”

“It’s so dark, Molly, I can barely see you.”

“Oh! Lights, 100%!”

Mekor hissed as the lights suddenly went to full brightness, bringing his hands to his face. “Molly! I don’t have my glasses!”

“Oops- Computer, dim lights by 20%. Sorry.”

He rubbed his eyes. “Chaos, that’s painful.”

“Is that a Cardassian?”

“He’s my friend! He’s a virologist, and he gave me kanar. It tasted horrible.”

“Exactly why I... pawned it off on you. Molly, I feel as though I’ve gone blind.” Saint reached up for his face, making a worried chirp. “I’ll be alright, son.”

“Where did the bottle go?” Molly looked around. She hadn’t grabbed it. She remembered she was supposed to be talking to Nerys. “How are you?”

“Good, I guess. Who’s your friend?” Mekor lowered his hands, blinking rapidly. “Dukat?”

“Mekor Dukat, formerly.” He squinted. “It’s been Mekor Yek since I got enjoined.”

“Mekor wanted to apologize to you!” Molly was proud of her brilliant idea. She couldn’t wait to tell her other friends about it.

“Apologize?”

“When Molly told me how my father used to harass you, I asked her to pass on my apologies for his extremely disgraceful actions. She... cleverly suggested that I tell you myself.”

“Huh.”

“I’m aware of how my father used to act, and I am sorry you had to experience close proximity to him.”

“Mekor doesn’t like his dad,” Molly added, feeling helpful. “He hates Cardassia.”

“I don’t hate Cardassia, Molly. I prefer not to think about it.” He sighed. “How are things on Bajor? Molly speaks fondly of your station.”

“Molly, does your dad know you’re friends with Dukat’s son?”

She didn’t see why that mattered. And even if it did, she was an adult, and could make her own decisions about her friendships. “Uh, no. I tell him about my Cardassian friend Mekor a lot, but Dukat isn’t even his last name anymore.”

“Yek, right?”

“Yes, that is a fraction of my husband’s name that I chose to replace my surname.” Saint waved his arms. “No, darling, it is not part of your name. Parasitoids don’t have surnames, and your father requested that we following his people’s naming tradition.” The boy slumped, arms going limp.

Nerys still looked wary, but Molly was sure that with a little bit of effort, she could get her aunt to like her friend. But... She was getting tired. Folding her arms on her computer console, she put down her head. She heard Saint coo at her as she drifted to sleep, and Mekor saying, “Goodness, she always does this.”

“Goodnight, Molly.”

“And you just let me call Admiral Kira?” Molly almost shrieked, as Mekor told her what had happened while they ate breakfast together. A few people stared, someone laughed. “I don’t remember that at all!”

“After you fell asleep, we had a rather pleasant conversation, once I assured her that I meant you no harm, and that you were the one who chose to intoxicate yourself.” He poked at the Cardassian meal he was eating. “I told her all about you.”

“God...”

“She seems like a respectable woman. I can see why my father pursued her.” She glared at him, and he gave her a small smile. “A joke. Nevertheless, we did have a nice chat. Saint grew tired, so I bid her farewell and put you to bed before returning home.”

“Was Yek upset that you were late?”

“Oh, he whined like a needy child that had been abandoned.”

“How long did he whine this time?”

“I wouldn’t know. I shut off my translator and went to bed.”

Molly saw someone headed their way. “Speak of the devil.”

Four hands clasped Mekor’s shoulders and arms, and a helmeted head ducked down next to his. “Hello, Mekor! Are you ready to go to work with me? That new virus from the binary system won’t study itself! It’s begun mutating in response to that cell specimen you added to it.”

“So quickly? Has it permeated the cell membranes yet?””

Molly noticed that Saint was hanging onto his father’s back. She waved to him, and he waved back. Mekor got up. “Leaving so soon?”

“My apologies, Molly. We’ll have a proper breakfast tomorrow.”

“Maybe I’ll swing by the infirmary if I don’t have too much to do in the lab.”

“Sorry to steal him away, Ensign O’Brien!” Yek dipped his head in apology. Saint squeaked as he almost fell off, and Mekor grabbed him. “Oops. Sorry, son.”

#uss nobility and crew #oblio's fics #molly o'brien #mekor dukat #star trek ocs #sorry if this doesn't make sense or is confusing lmao i promise i will add other parts to explain things. since this is about 2 years into #their exploration mission #Dr. Yek was created Just so i could shove my knowledge of parasitoids into a character and make a nice but creepy wasp husband

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peaceofpuregold-blog · 7 years

Text

Does Petyr Baelish Have PTSD?

@liitlefinger got me thinking with this:

Hmm I was thinking abt this last night and obviously Petyr has so much trauma from what happened to him as a kid but does he have like? A PTSD?

I have a tiny (really just a smidgen) amount of education and training on PTSD and other conditions listed in the DSM-V. Enough to have a .pdf of the thing I nearly forgot was on my computer. Thank goodness, because my copy of the text is nearly 1,000 pages long-ish.

Caveat: I am not the type of professional who is legally able to make a proper diagnosis of any kind.

Background: to put it vaguely as possible (as I still prize my anonymity) my day job is working with a very vulnerable population, those with a variety of disabilities although I specialize in particular those with Intellectual Disability and/or Pervasive Developmental Disorder. I have helped those with other conditions, or those that have other conditions in addition to the ones I specialize in. I started out with children, but have moved on to adults, specifically those of 21 year of age and older. We are trained how to spot potential additional conditions and direct them to the specialists who can diagnose them and then we coordinate together to figure out how to help them receive the prescribed treatment post-diagnosis.

Now! On with the criteria! I’ve simplified it a bit, but I’m going to go through each one with what quotes from ASOIAF I can find and with the tiniest bit of generalizing, please feel free to take the latter with a boulder of salt. DSM bits will be italicized.

Posttraumatic Stress Disorder

Note: The following criteria apply to adults, adolescents, and children older than 6 years. For children 6 years and younger, see corresponding criteria below.

Sweet! I found the right page. For reference:

He had a little pointed chin beard now, and threads of silver in his dark hair, though he was still shy of thirty.

-GOT Catelyn IV

A. Exposure to actual or threatened death, serious injury, or sexual violence in one (or more) of the following ways:

1. Directly experiencing the traumatic event(s).

Yup. Multiple events at that.

Brandon was a man grown, and he drove Littlefinger all the way across the bailey and down the water stair, raining steel on him with every step, until the boy was staggering and bleeding from a dozen wounds. “Yield!” he called, more than once, but Petyr would only shake his head and fight on, grimly. When the river was lapping at their ankles, Brandon finally ended it, with a brutal backhand cut that bit through Petyr’s rings and leather into the soft flesh below the ribs, so deep that Catelyn was certain that the wound was mortal. He looked at her as he fell and murmured “Cat” as the bright blood came flowing out between his mailed fingers. She thought she had forgotten that.

-GOT Catelyn VII

“That was the night I stole up to his bed to give him comfort. I bled, but it was the sweetest hurt. He told me he loved me then, but he called me Cat, just before he fell back to sleep. Even so, I stayed with him until the sky began to lighten.”

-ASOS Sansa VII, Lysa

A fortnight passed before Littlefinger was strong enough to leave Riverrun, but her lord father forbade her to visit him in the tower where he lay abed. Lysa helped their maester nurse him; she had been softer and shyer in those days… As soon as he was strong enough to be moved, Lord Hoster Tully sent Petyr Baelish away in a closed litter, to finish his healing on the Fingers, upon the windswept jut of rock where he’d been born.

-GOT Catelyn VII

NB: In my non-professional opinion, I do not consider the actual betrothal to Brandon Stark to be a traumatic event. Please feel free to correct me, but I couldn’t find anything in the text to support this, but of course I may have missed something. I see obviously some grief, disappointment, and sadness. Considering the situation and his prior feelings toward Cat, I did not find any of these emotions expressed to be of a disturbed amount or manner. Please take this opinion with a hefty grain of salt and do not hesitate to correct me if I’m wrong.

2. Witnessing, in person, the event(s) as it occurred to others.

Nope.

3. Learning that the traumatic event(s) occurred to a close family member or close friend. In cases of actual or threatened death of a family member or friend, the event(s) must have been violent or accidental.

Nuh-uh.

4. Experiencing repeated or extreme exposure to aversive details of the traumatic event(s).

It is known that he has several brothels, where Littlefinger may serve folks of unusual tastes (at least per the show, as of writing this I couldn’t find evidence of it in A Search of Ice and Fire and a brief perusal of the text) which includes those that by simply the nature of their age cannot consent, let alone his own prostitutes where we may deal with anything from enthusiastic consent (I’m not going to knock the legitimate sex workers out there that take good care of themselves and only go through with consenting transactions. They happen, but I get the feeling and have read evidence of it rarely. Still, I’m one of the weird ones who have talked to a few of the healthy ones on my own time with no sign of psychological stress as I saw it or signs of attempting to lie… and a number of not healthy ones due to where I’m employed.), to dubious, to outright not consenting.

Nevertheless this criteria has been met!

B. Presence of one (or more) of the following intrusion symptoms associated with the traumatic event(s), beginning after the traumatic event(s) occurred:

1. Recurrent, involuntary, and intrusive distressing memories of the traumatic event(s).

2. Recurrent distressing dreams in which the content and/or affect of the dream are related to the traumatic event(s). Note: In children, there may be frightening dreams without recognizable content.

3. Dissociative reactions in which the individual feels or acts as if the traumatic event(s) were recurring.

4. Intense or prolonged psychological distress at exposure to internal or external cues that symbolize or resemble an aspect of the traumatic event(s).

5. Marked physiological reactions to internal or external cues that symbolize or resemble an aspect of the traumatic event(s).

Unfortunately, all the above requires us to have an interview or be treating the individual we may be making this diagnosis for, or requires insight into the individual’s thoughts.

Say… like… maaayyybbbeee… in a POV chapter in this case.

Eh? Eh? GRRM? … Please?

Or he could somehow express these feelings to Sansa. I can’t think of anyone else he’d say them to. Then again, this could just be wishful thinking.

“Littlefinger is the second most devious man in the Seven Kingdoms.”

-GOT Eddard XV, Varys

Either way, unable to determine if criteria had been met at this time.

C. Persistent avoidance of stimuli associated with the traumatic event(s), beginning after the traumatic event(s) occurred, as evidenced by one or both of the following:

1. Avoidance of or efforts to avoid distressing memories, thoughts, or feelings about or closely associated with the traumatic event(s).

2. Avoidance of or efforts to avoid external reminders (people, places, conversations, activities, objects, situations) that arouse distressing memories, thoughts, or feelings about or closely associated with the traumatic event(s).

See the above. Unable to determine if if the criteria has been met. But I think we can rule out C2.

“My lords, with your leave, I propose to travel to the Vale and there woo and win Lady Lysa Arryn. Once I am her consort, I shall deliver you the Vale of Arryn without a drop of blood being spilled.”

-ASOS Tyrion III, Petyr Baelish

D. Negative alterations in cognitions and mood associated with the traumatic event(s), beginning or worsening after the traumatic event(s) occurred, as evidenced by two (or more) of the following:

1. Inability to remember an important aspect of the traumatic event(s) (typically due to dissociative amnesia and not to other factors such as head injury, alcohol, or drugs).

The text implies Petyr was indeed drunk when raped by Lysa, therefore does not qualify as he believes he had Cat in his bed that night.

“He looked so wounded I thought my heart would burst, and afterward he drank until he passed out at the table. Uncle Brynden carried him up to bed before my father could find him like that.”

-ASOS Sansa VII, Lysa

If they had any sex thereafter post his fight with Brandon, but before being forced back to The Fingers, I believe would be defined as dubious consent (I don’t know if she became pregnant after that single session). He probably had quite a lot of pain medication to deal with his wounds.

Once more, does not strictly qualify. The bragging he does many years later in King’s Landing about taking the maidenhead of both sisters confirms that he was so impaired on at least that first occasion that he does indeed believe he had sex with Catelyn. There are several examples, but I quite like this one from a narrative stand point,

“Littlefinger had you first, didn’t he?”

-ACOK Catelyn VII, Jaime Lannister

Could just be an excellent example of toxic masculinity. As for his cognitions in regards to his fight with Brandon Stark… More insight is needed.

2. Persistent and exaggerated negative beliefs or expectations about oneself, others, or the world.

3. Persistent, distorted cognitions about the cause or consequences of the traumatic event(s) that lead the individual to blame himself/herself or others.

4. Persistent negative emotional state.

5. Markedly diminished interest or participation in significant activities.

6. Feelings of detachment or estrangement from others.

7. Persistent inability to experience positive emotions.

I’m sure Petyr felt like shit when he was hauled away to his father’s land before he donned the mask of Littlefinger, but we need a POV or declaration to another character to be sure.

D2-D7 Unable to be determined at this time.

E. Marked alterations in arousal and reactivity associated with the traumatic event(s), beginning or worsening after the traumatic event(s) occurred, as evidenced by two (or more) of the following:

1. Irritable behavior and angry outbursts typically expressed as verbal or physical aggression toward people or objects.

Umm… Lysa would agree.

Lysa Arryn smiled tremulously. “Only one? Oh, Petyr, do you swear it? Only one?”

“Only Cat.” He gave her a short, sharp shove.

Lysa stumbled backward, her feet slipping on the wet marble. And then she was gone. She never screamed. For the longest time there was no sound but the wind.

-ASOS Sansa VII, Lysa and Petyr Baelish

I mean, she was trying to hurt Sansa, but I theorize that this cool and controlled as a cucumber colored cat dude did this much sooner than he had planned to.

Anything else needs more insight.

2. Reckless or self-destructive behavior.

Chaos is a ladder, anyone?

Wait… What? Is that just a show only thing?! Aww… man.

3. Hypervigilance.

Well, to not be while constructing and carrying out his plans would be expected. To a detrimental level we don’t have enough evidence for yet. Need to be in his head for that or see some symptoms from Sansa. I haven’t found any yet.

4. Exaggerated startle response.

I don’t see anything in the text to support this. Littlefinger has the affect, as I’ve mentioned before, of a cool cat. Cucumber cat.

5. Problems with concentration.

If Lord Baelish knew how to juggle he could do it blindfolded with a great number and variety of things of all shapes and sizes; some on fire, some sharp and pointy in a number of ways, while standing on a ball, doing the hula-hoop, and playing the 1812 Overture in its entirety on a kazoo.

Currently not supported by the text.

Except for the juggling bit.

A master juggler was Petyr Baelish.

-ACOK Tyrion IV

6. Sleep disturbance.

Need a POV or a sneaky Sansa.

Technically since for this section only two were needed to pass here. He is short of making it by one. He might satisfy more with further evidence, but at the moment we’re again at the not supported by the currently released text impasse.

F. Duration of the disturbance (Criteria B, C, D, and E) s more than 1 month.

Need more data, see above criteria noted.

G. The disturbance causes clinically significant distress or impairment in social, occupational,or other important areas of functioning.

Honestly, considering how well the man functions in his society to the point of being promoted up the ladder to the Small Council, despite his low-birth and the other obstacles he had to overcome, I’m inclined to say does not at the present time meet this criteria. His mask is tight, but everything we have evidence for thus far does not state what he’s like beyond Sansa’s brief musings on the difference between the attitude he presents to her when she believes she can ascertain the difference between the mask and the man. What she perceives as Petyr could just be another mask, even if it is a smaller one.

Note that we also do not know precisely how long ago he started his climb. I could definitely see that he might have had to take some time to put his foot on the first rung. So he could have possibly met this criteria in the past. Unfortunately, as I’ve said many times before, need more data.

H. The disturbance is not attributable to the physiological effects of a substance or another medical condition.

Specify whether:

With dissociative symptoms: The individual’s symptoms meet the criteria for posttraumatic stress disorder, and in addition, in response to the stressor, the individual experiences persistent or recurrent symptoms of either of the following:

1. Depersonalization: Persistent or recurrent experiences of feeling detached from, and as if one were an outside observer of, one’s mental processes or body.

2. Dereailzation: Persistent or recurrent experiences of unreality of surroundings.

Considering that Sansa admits:

And sometimes it seemed to her that the Lord Protector was two people as well. He was Petyr, her protector, warm and funny and gentle … but he was also Littlefinger, the lord she’d known at King’s Landing, smiling slyly and stroking his beard as he whispered in Queen Cersei’s ear… Littlefinger was only a mask he had to wear. Only sometimes Sansa found it hard to tell where the man ended and the mask began. Littlefinger and Lord Petyr looked so very much alike.

-AFFC Sansa I

And how it appears to her he seems to be able to take the mask on and off at his own behest so that it’s hard to tell them apart, this really doesn’t meet the criteria for disassociation; but I could do a short meta about how he doesn’t meet this definition or the dissociative disorders currently in the DSM-V. The Depersonalization and Derealization symptoms will again have to wait for possible reveals in the future.

Note: To use this subtype, the dissociative symptoms must not be attributable to the physiological effects of a substance or another medical condition (e.g., complex partial seizures).

Oh! That’s me! But the terminology is out of date as of this year.

Specify if:

With delayed expression: If the full diagnostic criteria are not met until at least 6 months after the event (although the onset and expression of some symptoms may be immediate).

Say it again with me.

NEED. MORE. DATA.

So, to summarize: Currently only one criteria has been met for a potential diagnosis of PTSD. The rest we require more data to determine whether or not he does as we need more insight via a POV chapter or what he may reveal to Sansa. If this is done verbally to her instead of with body language or clearly noted with certain nonverbal cues which may conflict with what he may be saying it will be difficult to determine if he meets the criteria or not.

Honestly, I’ll admit that what I could give references for during my first run through of this Meta©™® with the books I had and what I could find in ASOIAF this was a fun and insightful exercise.

For reasons I will not disclose here I have been diagnosed with PTSD for unfortunately meeting A1 on several occasions. It has been interesting to compare what criteria I most definitely met, but with treatment I have been able to manage or outright worked out of different subsets. I still meet them all enough to have the diagnosis, but have made significant progress, but it made me a bit proud.

#tw: rape #rape #trigger warning rape #petyr baelish #littlefinger #asoiaf meta

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knivestheresnothingtoit · 7 years

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“Are we licking stuff?” - Faraday (aka last night’s RP session)

In which Faraday and Vasquez try to get Red Harvest drunk and just get really fucking hammered themselves and hatch stupid plans while Goodnight tries to keep the peace and McCann is done with everything and everyone. Features such fine quotes as "hell hath no fury like an enraged mexican on a mission with hell on his heels" - McCann. Also Faraday explains to McCann how reproduction works. Read below the cut

Faraday: Guys I have a announcement *strolls over to the tableI am just as lousy a walker sober as when I am drunk* Red Harvest: Are we supposed to be surprised? Goodnight: Let's just act it. For his sake. Faraday: My sake? Now I am offended Goody. Vasquez: Are you drunk right now? or did we get lucky? Faraday:I had one drink befoee headed here. *sits down* Vasquez: Just one? you're sure about that? Red Harvest: Do you mean one bottle? Goodnight: What was the alcohol proof? Faraday: Bottle,cup its all the same. And it was shit proof. Not even a buzz Goodnight: Pfft. Well I'm sure your liver can handle one night of cheap booze. Vasquez: As long as that doesn't become the rationale for repeated nights of cheap booze Red Harvest: Can I have the bottle? Faraday: You want a empty. Bottle? And what do ya mean Vas? Red Harvest: Well. Never mind then Vasquez: Don't keep drinking that junk night after night and saying it's "just one more night" of doing it Faraday: I have another someplace Red. Vasquez: Why is that not surprising Goodnight: I like how it's "someplace". Faraday: You think me the person who does that? Red Harvest: Sweet. I want it Faraday: It might be in my bag or dresser. I hide them Red Harvest: Of course you do Vasquez: Good to know. Faraday: No Vasquez. Vasquez: What? I didn't do anything Faraday: You said good to know and we are bunked in the same area. Vasquez: Are you implying I would steal your alcohol? I mean, I might, but the fact that you would think that of me... Faraday: To stop me drinkin? Yes you may not want them Vasquez: Hmph. I could use a drink right now Red Harvest: You Vasquez, should not get drunk. It is not pretty when that happens Goodnight: It's not pretty when any of us are drunk. Let's be honest, now. Red Harvest: You just get sad Goodnight Vasquez: I'm tempted, just because you said that, Red Red Harvest: You were trying to get Horne to have sex lady time you were drunk Vasquez. You have very little room to judge Goodnight: Exactly. That is not pretty. Vasquez: Oh c'mon, like none of you wanted them to get together? Faraday: Sex lady time? The hell is that a new..uhhh never mind Red Harvest: Still drunk Faraday? Faraday: No just not sure if I heard right Vasquez: From the sound of it, Red may be the one who's done the most drinking so far Red Harvest: At least I can hold my liquor Faraday: Can you? Vasquez: I'm not sure I've ever seen you really drink, come to think of it Faraday: Same. I wanna see that Vasquez: I'll buy Red Harvest: Alright Goodnight: That sounds terrifying. But I cannot pass that up. Red Harvest: Exactly Vasquez: Bartender, bring over a bottle of your strongest. For the little shit over there Red Harvest: You spoil me Vasquez, how kind of you Faraday: Now we are talking break out the drinks *rubs hands together* Vasquez: My pleasure, Red. Drink up, don't be shy Red Harvest: *Rolls eyes but grabs the bottle and drinks straight out* Faraday: Please don't be because we sure as hell will not be Red Harvest: *Slams it down* Weaklings Goodnight: Red? Be shy? *chuckles* Faraday: Are you challenging us? Red Harvest: Fight me Vasquez: Oh, we're ready Faraday: Maybe not Goodnight Vasquez: Yes, he'd better moderate He's too old for this BARTENDER, another round Red Harvest: Horrible idea, really Faraday: And Billy scares me Vasquez: Yes, I think if we get Goodnight too hammered, he'll kill us Goodnight: Well... Maybe not "kill"... Maim? But Vasquez. "Too old"? I am offended. Red Harvest: *Takes some of the new bottle* We mean kill Vasquez: Sorry, Goodnight. It' s just how I see things Faraday: I am already maimed Red Harvest: It's the hair Faraday: The beard? Goodnight: Well, I think I look rather charmin'. Dapper. Red Harvest: Did Billy tell you that? McCann: *enters* *pauses* *immediately leaves* Vasquez: Whether it's true or not doesn't change the fact that he's too old for this HEY get back in here, McCann! McCann: nope Faraday: Get your ass back here McCann Red Harvest: They're trying to get me drunk. We're gone through two bottles already Vasquez: *steps outside, grabs McCann by the collar, drags him inside* Sit down Goodnight: *points to McCann* If I have to sit through this and endure it, so are you. McCann: nO *struggles* Vasquez: Pour him a drink, Faraday. He'll stick around Red Harvest: Want a knife? Might help McCann: gimme that knife red Red Harvest: Was I talking to you?? Goodnight: Can we leave the knife handling to Billy, please? Red Harvest: No McCann: if it means i'll kill myself, i don't think you'd rightly care, no? Vasquez: Yes Red Harvest: I think we've proven that you suck at that Vasquez: Only I'm allowed to kill you and Red is right anyway Faraday:*pours a drink* McCann? McCann: fuck you all next chancce i get i'm leaving Faraday: Wait why are we waisting this on him Red Harvest: You gave it to him now give it to me Vasquez: Why, Faraday? I don't know about you, but I'm bored this is interesting Faraday: Geez calm down Red. And it is Vasquez: Hey, I've got an idea Red Harvest: Im scared Vasquez: could be because I've drunk a little too much, but Faraday: What? Vasquez: There's a bounty on my head, yes? Let's say one of you turns me in, takes the bounty, breaks me out, and we split the cash? Red Harvest: How many drinks have you had? McCann: you're right you drank too much faraday might be the only one dumb enough to do that with you drunk or sober Vasquez: may have drunk too much but that doesn't mean it's a bad idea Faraday, are you in? we can try tomorrow McCann: that wasn't an invitation Vasquez: Sounded like one to me Faraday: Vas. What if you say no? Vasquez: to what? Red Harvest: What do we do about him? Faraday: In the morning Sober you Will say no Vasquez: I won't McCann: any idea from you guys is always a bad idea Vasquez: i promise, faraday says the one who sided with Bogue McCann: i don't need to tell you my reasons for joining up with him no one's ever asked why you got a bounty of $500 on your head for killing a ranger Vasquez: you wanna know why? Faraday: Yeah? McCann: not particularly no i couldn't care less everyone does shit it's nothing new Red Harvest: You're going to tell us anyways Vasquez: Never mind *scowls and drinks* Faraday: Aww Vasquez. *wraps a arm around him* Tell us Red Harvest: I think I drank more than you but somehow you are still drunker Vasquez: He shot the only person I had left and he would have killed me too. It was me or him Faraday: Ohh. Man. *loosens his arm* Red Harvest: I'm sorry Goodnight: frowns I'm sorry, Vasquez... Faraday: They say you remember your first kill. Red Harvest: Do you? Faraday: Me?.....No *shifts his chair* Vasquez: Wasn't my first, but I remember it just as well something you want to say, Josh? Faraday: That I want more. Yes Goodnight: Whomever that "they" was, they could not be more right. Vasquez: once in awhile the sayings are right Faraday: The guy who was like a father to me kinda said that Vasquez: what did he say? Faraday: That you remember the first kill Vasquez: Sorry, lost my train of thought for a moment there was he a fighter? Faraday: Kinda. I got my guns off him Vasquez: they're good guns for "kinda a fighter" to have Red Harvest: Served their purpose when needed Vasquez: that's what counts Goodnight: True but it's kind of nice to have something that holds a special meaning behind it.. Faraday: He was but a story for another time Another round? Vasquez: I'll drink to that or rather i'll drink that aiyayay my jokes are even worse than usual tonight McCann: you say it like they've never been bad Faraday: They are good jokes But... mine are better McCann: yours are not any better Vasquez: I was about to say thank you, but never mind McCann: in fact they're even worse Vasquez: OH there we go Thank you, McCann Faraday: Are not damn you McCann: they're even worse when you're piss drunk which is say about 90% of the time Vasquez: he's right about that one, Josh Goodnight: He does have a point. Faraday: Is not. I am... *downs another shot* Vasquez: are you trying to prove his point? Faraday: No my head just hurts So Red how are you holding up McCann: your head's always hurting with the amount you consume Faraday: Fuck off McCann So. Vas? McCann: ohhhh nows my chance then Vasquez: Yes? McCann: *tries to leave* Vasquez: *hauls him back* McCann: motherfucker *scowls* Faraday: Why do you wanna turn yourself in? Vasquez: preferably you will turn me in and take the bounty, and then break me out and then we split the cash McCann: what part of "vasquez has had too many drinks" did you not understand faraday Vasquez: i just had enough drinks to make me creative McCann: to make you stupider and reckless Faraday: How would I do that? Vasquez: do what the breaking me out part? Goodnight: Please don't question that; I'm afraid he'll pull out dynamite again to break you out. Vasquez: if it works, i don't mind if he doesn't blow himself up again Faraday: I won't honest *goofy grin* Vasquez: see? he's a responsible adult goody McCann: those two words should never be used with faraday if you were sober, you'd know that better than anyone else Goodnight: I cannot...believe I am saying this... But I agree with McCann... *shudders Faraday: Excuse me mr. I stabbed myself wrong Vasquez: GOOD POINT McCann: you're excused mr. i blew myself up by carrying around a spare stick of dynamite Vasquez: Faraday i would want to do this now before goody tries to stop us but i'm not sure i can walk straight right now Goodnight: The one upside about y'all bein' drunk. Faraday: You lean on me and i lean on you we will be good Vasquez: okay shall we go? Goodnight: No, no. Vasquez: actually, one more drink first McCann: you're like two peas in a pod i swear to god Faraday: Yes,yes Vasquez: CHEEERS Goodnight: If I have to chase you two, I swear I will wake BIlly up. Vasquez: uh oh Faraday: *clinks his glass* Cheers Goodnight: Yeah. Vasquez: Billy doesn't need to know Goodnight: He doesn't. But he will. Besides--- You two will wake up the whole damn town you're so hammered. Faraday: He doesn't need to know....geez Mom Vasquez: they like us They won't care Faraday: Goodnight i mean And yeah McCann: they'll care if you're disturbing their sleep in the middle of the night Vasquez: they owe us anyway so they shouldn't complain Faraday: They do Vasquez: WAIT FARADAY you might not even have to break me out Faraday: Yes? Why? Vasquez: Because if the sheriff imprisons me all the townspeople will get mad he might jut let me go Faraday: True Vasquez: admit it, I'm a genius. We'll be rich by tomorrow Faraday: Good planning Vasquez: thank you Goodnight: ...That...doesn't make a lick of sense. McCann: how did you two ever survive when you were drunk off your ass Vasquez: you know what, you don't make a lick of sense teamwork mccann You wouldn't get it, you don't have friends Faraday: Are we licking stuff? Goodnight: No one is licking anything, Joshua. McCann: you were on your own for a good portion of the time you dumbass Faraday: Damn Vasquez: I don't get drunk by myself McCann: no but faradaay sure as hell does Faraday: I do and its no fun Vasquez: faraday's not wanted he doesn't have to be so careful Faraday: This is true Vasquez: I mean, wanted by the law. Not sure about other ways. Think I saw some girl with her eye on you downtown yesterday McCann: he doesn't have to be wanted he already makes people dislike him just by being an ass Faraday: A girl? Goodnight: Amazing that thats the only part he picks up... Faraday: I pick up stuff McCann: like dynamite? Faraday: Like a drink Vasquez: shall we take one for the road? Faraday: Yep *stands and wobbles* Vasquez: *pushes back chair and almost tips it over* McCann: ..... im not helping any of you dumbasses Goodnight: Oh, Lord... sighs and gets up to block the door Faraday: Like we need help *waves it off * Vasquez: I think if we go fast we can get past him McCann: *mumbles clearly* Faraday: Right. Lets move fast *starts for where he thinks the door was* Vasquez: *follows, runs into the wall* But I thought… McCann: *facepalms* Goodnight: *drops shoulders, raises eyebrow* I don't know why I worried... Faraday: *trips and runs into Vasquez* Goody moved the door on us Vasquez: Goody thats not nice Goodnight: *looks at McCann* How did you let that shoot you? McCann: apparently his aim is much better when he's not drunk off his ass Vasquez: my aim is fine right now McCann: also Faraday: I can't get up McCann: hell hath no fury like an enraged mexican on a mission with hell on his heels Goodnight: Oh, thank the Lord. Vasquez: Let me give you a hand *offers one* Faraday: *grabs his hand and pulls himself up* Ugh geez. No lord talk. Vasquez: maybe we'll have to try this plan tomorrow güerito Faraday: When will you tell me what that means? Vasquez: later Faraday: Good damn. Goody is gonna snitch on us though to Sam and Billy Goodnight: How about this-- Vasquez: Dammit, you're right Goodnight: Y'all forget that plan, those two don't have to know about any of this. Vasquez: hmm Faraday: I am gonna write it down Vasquez: That's a good idea Faraday: I need a paper and that thing Goodnight: "That thing"... Vasquez: oh yes I think I have one of those things Here *hands it over* Faraday: You know *makes a hand writing gester with no pen/pencil* Ohhh *takes it and looks for paper* Hmmmm Vasquez: McCann, do you have some? Or goody? Goodnight: *blinks, stares* Vasquez: you're no help just write it on the table Josh. We'll clean it off tomorrow Goodnight: Please don't deface public property with this stupid plan... McCann: ..... Faraday: *tries it* Damn. Vas give me your hand Vasquez: what? Faraday: I am gonna write on it Vasquez: Oohhhh Here Faraday: *grabs it and starts writing Vasquez: Good idea McCann:.......... Faraday: Best idea. McCann cannot think of this Goodnight: *crosses arms, raises brow* Uh-huh. And is that ink smudge proof? McCann: *heavily sighs, eyes rolled up to the ceiling* Faraday: Isn't all ink Goodnight:....Sure, Joshua. McCann: how were you born Faraday: Well I hope you know Vasquez: I promise not to wash my hand until we're sober again Faraday: You are a big boy Mccann And good Vasquez: McCann your mother should have gave you that talk McCann:.......... *stares* lemme rephrase that Faraday: You do what you do to the saloon girls but only...well McCann: how did you ever survive on your dumbass self gross faraday Goodnight:JOSHUA PLEASE McCann:i don't need to know the details of sex Vasquez: I think he gets it now josh Faraday:You are the dumbass who asked McCann: you're the dumbass who can't recognize what it is i'm trying to ask Faraday:Goody don't yell I did McCann:i'm well aware of how a person gets born you idiot what fuckin adult isn't Faraday:Are you? Have you seen it? Vasquez: I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't know McCann: WTF FARADAY Faraday: I mean...ugh... i am not drunk enough Goodnight: You're all tryin' to put me in an early grave. Faraday: No. Horne woukd beat you Vasquez: Here Josh *pours him a drink* Goodnight: Get the bottle. Get the bottle. McCann: at the rate this is is going, you two might die around the same time Vasquez: *grabs it* too late Faraday: Should we run? Goodnight: Can you run? Vasquez: Yes! McCann: you couldn't even find the exit Vasquez: clearly the exit is where the door is McCann: and have yu found the door at all judging by your previous attempt Vasquez: the door is in the wall by the porch Over there somewhere *waves a hand around* Faraday: Vas we gotta go. Vasquez: I'm ready. *stands up shakily* McCann: ........ Faraday: *laughs as he takes off to run and trips over a chair* Ahh fuck. Fuck you chair. The hell Goodnight: You...tell that chair, Joshua... McCann: ................ Vasquez: That chair had it coming Faraday: Fuck my knee Vasquez: *stumbles generally toward the door while clutching the bottle* sorry? Faraday: It got my knee. Goodnight: *sighs and goes back by the door* Vasquez: Oh no Goodniiiiiiight It's past my bedtime; I need to go Faraday: *fallows him,limping,but acting smooth* Goody. Cmon McCann: *puts face in hands* Goodnight: You can sleep on the floor. Vasquez: that's not comfortable Goodnight: That's sounds like a personal problem. Faraday: What floor where McCann: what the fuck are you standing on faraday Faraday: I ain't sleeping here Vasquez: me neither. Goodyyyy come on Faraday: We have beds Goodnight: I'm sorry, Vasquez. But I simply cannot let you two loose on this poor town like this. Faraday: What will you do then? Vasquez: I just want to go to bed Faraday: Same my bed needs me Vasquez: I'm tired goodnight Goodnight: *squints* Faraday: *yawns* Goodnight: ....Do not make me regret this.... McCann: wait, why the fuck am i even staying i'm leaving *starts walking to the door* Vasquez: McCann tell him to let us go Faraday: Take us with you McCann: you two are on your own Vasquez: Please No Goodnight: *steps away* Fine. Go on, then. McCann can look after you. Faraday: Don't do that McCann: what fuck no robicheaux i'm not looking after a pair of dumb drunkards Faraday: He needs sleep too McCann: i don't even stay with you guys Vasquez: how about you just let us go and we'll promise to go to bed Faraday: Yes you can even walk us back McCann: no that's not even the direction im headed in Vasquez: It is now McCann: no Vasquez: Yes McCann: no Faraday: Goodnight he is a horrible sitter Goodnight: I'm falling asleep right here standing up Goodnight: Aaah. Alright, alright. Christ. Vasquez: Do you want me to fall on you Goodnight: Let's all head out. McCann: *walks out the door* im leaving Vasquez: runs into doorframe but follows Faraday: Fallowing the leader *fallows* Vasquez: These stairs weren't here before Dammit These are hard Faraday: That's something I heard before Goodnight: *blinks* Vasquez: *laughs way too hard* Faraday: He is shocked Vasquez: Again, old man Hey which way are we going? Goodnight: *sighs* I don't know why I expected anything less. Well... We're all in the same building. I do believe it's to the right.. Vasquez: okay, let's go Faraday: *starts in that way* Vasquez: Which way is that again? Goodnight: ...points to the right Vasquez: thanks amigo *goes that way* Faraday: *fallows humming a tune*

@geekyelvenchick @kirayamidemon @low-x-battery @rosecreeksashes

#mag7 #the magnificent seven #discord fam #dweeb squad #faraday #vasquez #goodnight robicheaux #mccannot #mccann #red harvest

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